Alternate Season 5 Episode 5x01 Midnight
by Colinsand
Summary: The Season Premiere of the Alternate Season 5 Begins here! A mysterious stranger makes a dangerous delivery to the offices of Wolfram and Hart. Team Angel, settling into their new jobs, face a race against time to stop an horrific act of destuction.
1. Overture

**OVERTURE**

_Many Thousands of Years Ago_

They were defeated.

The utterly shattered army was driven back by a vastly superior force. The great demon wars for Earth were drawing to a close. The dawn of the age of humanity was getting nearer and nearer.

It was a time of great turmoil. A time of massive change. Gods and Higher Powers battled furiously, waging a savage war that threatened to tear the very fabric of the universe to shreds.

One of the armies of evil was defeated not by a force of good, but by another force of evil.

The battle had been one of the fiercest ever seen, both sides determined, pouring everything they had to be the one to come out on top when it was all over.

The skies burned bright. Gigantic explosions rippled though the air and across the devastated land.

It seemed like the battle lasted forever, for an eternity.

Both sides blasting and pounding and smashing and crashing. But eventually one of them had to win. And one of them had to lose.

The banner of the victors flew high as the defeated were banished from the earth forever. The banner had three creatures emblazoned on it.

A Wolf.

A Ram.

And a Hart.

They had won and they had moved on to the next conflict.

The wars continued for many many many years.

But in the end demons were almost completely driven from the Earth. The darkest powers, the most powerful of the evils were cast out.

The time had come for the humans to seize the earth. The forces of evil would ever give up, but now at least they were scattered across the higher, and lower planes of existence.

Humanity now had a chance to grow.

But that force defeated by the Wolf, Ram and Hart left something behind. Something that remained dormant. A presence. A power. A way back in when enough time had passed.

When events allowed for a second opportunity to take control of the Earth.

The world forgot the age of the epic wars. The world forgot the defeated.

Some of the dark forces found ways to remain on the earth. One of these groups evolved and became one of the world's most prominent law firms.

_2004_

Welcome to the City of Angels.

He looked out across the city, the city on the brink of turning from day into night, the final rays of sun shining orange, like heavenly spotlights from the horizon. Los Angeles, a place of darkness even on the brightest day. At night, it got a whole lot darker. When the everyday people went to bed the city became the haunt of the creatures of the night. The view across the cityscape was incredible. A view he was starting to get used to.

He was wearing a long black coat, black pants, black shirt and black shoes. The theme was definitely: Black. Being here was a new start, a new beginning. As he looked out he couldn't help but wonder how all of this would turn out in the end. This would have consequences, consequences that would change the whole world, would effect the balance of everything. The choices, the decisions, everything that had brought him here was on his mind as he looked out of the window. This city was the beginning. This city would also be the end.

The man's name was Adrian Wallace. He was looking out of the window of his classy, insanely expensive downtown hotel suite. He slipped out his cell phone and dialed. After a single ring the call was answered. "Begin phase one," he said and then ended the conversation, slipping the phone back into his pocket. The time of destiny had arrived, the mission his family had lived for since the ancient times was about to begin.

xXxXxXx

Her condition hadn't changed. It never did. Staff Nurse Alyssa Sanchez always felt odd around her. She had cared for many coma patients over the years, but none made her feel as uneasy as this young woman did. The name on the chart was Cordelia Chase. There was nothing in particular that made her different from any other patient, but being in a room alone with her gave Alyssa the oddest sense of something terribly wrong; not something physical, rather something more shadowy.

But today something was different. Today there was no such feeling, today she was like any normal coma patient. She somehow looked different too. Less…distant; this was silly though. The patient was always distant, as distant as you could get without being dead. Alyssa gave her one last glance before leaving the room. Cordelia Chase lay still. The nurse for some reason was expecting her to move. But she didn't. The patient remained perfectly still, eyes closed. As always. Alyssa shrugged and mentally told herself off for being so weird, for thinking such ridiculous things. She went out of the room and closed the door.

A few seconds after the nurse left there was a sudden change in the patient's condition.

The index finger of Cordelia's right hand twitched.

xXxXxXx

The figure was wearing robes of an earthy red color. The hood was up, concealing his face. In his hands he was carrying a box roughly the size of a soccer ball. It was a perfect cube, made of dark wood with dull metal trimming. Symbols were deeply carved into the four side surfaces of the cube, the top and bottom were marked with a big orange circle. Slowly, purposefully, the figure walked up to the building. He opened one of the huge glass doors and entered the building's lobby. The security guard looked up from behind his desk.

"Can I help you sir?" He asked. The figure ignored him and continued walking. The figure stopped in the middle of the empty lobby and set the box down on the floor. He began to chant.

"Sir," the security guard stood, hand drifting towards his gun holster. The figure continued speaking in a language the guard didn't recognize. The guard hit the silent alarm, in seconds the lobby would be crawling with security personnel. "Sir, stop what you're doing, and raise your hands above your head." The guard started to approach the figure, drawing his gun and flicking off the safety. The figure still paid no heed to the guard. The guard took aim. "Stop, or I will fire." The box suddenly flashed a blinding green, the guard raised his arms to shield his eyes, but he wasn't quick enough.

His eyes stung, his vision obstructed by a green haze. Slowly the brightness faded and when he could see again he saw that the box was glowing with a mysterious green light. The guard brought his gun up again. He heard the _ding_ that signaled the elevator's arrival and he heard the footsteps of the additional security. Now the figure turned towards him. He reached up and pulled back the hood, revealing a heavily scarred human face.

"Get whoever's in charge down here now," the robed man commanded. A sly smile started to spread across his lips. He looked at the sign on the wall behind the guard, proclaiming the name of the organization that was housed in this building. "And tell them to hurry, the lives of everyone in this city depends on it." The sign spelled out in clear white letters: _Wolfram and Hart Attorneys at Law._


	2. Act One

_**ACT ONE**_

The elevator doors parted and the two of them stepped out. Angel, the new C.E.O of Wolfram and Hart's Los Angeles office, with Wesley Wyndam-Pryce at his side walked across the lobby to meet with the mystery guest.

"You wanted to speak to someone in charge?" Angel said by way of greeting. Wesley's eyes were immediately drawn to the box. It wasn't an object he recognized, but the pulsing green glow it was giving off gave him the distinct impression that whatever it was, it wasn't good.

"You?" The man raised his eyebrows. "You are in charge? You don't look slimy enough to be a lawyer." Angel held the man's gaze. "And a vampire? Weird." The man shook his head. "Never would have thought they'd ever put a vamp in charge around here. I guess times have changed," the man sighed.

"Who are you?" Angel asked, not wanting to stray off topic.

"That isn't really important. All you need to know is that I am the representative of a client of this distinguished firm. What you need to be concerned about is the box," he gestured towards the object in question. "This box is a bomb, a bomb powerful enough to destroy not only this building but everything else within a ten block radius too."

"Okay, you have my attention, what do you want?" Angel kept a straight face, Wesley was slightly less successful at concealing his reaction.

"Simple, all that is required is for you to fulfill your contractual obligations to your client. If you fail to fulfill said obligations by the stroke of midnight this bomb goes, kaboom." The man took a pause, purely for dramatic effect. "I should probably mention that this bomb cannot leave this building, if it does, it will detonate. There are also a full range of protective safeguards and anti-tampering measures, so I wouldn't recommend attempting anything clever." The man lifted his hood back up. "Well, that's my job done, good luck." He started walking back towards the doors. One of the security guards raised his gun, the moment he did the robed figure gestured. A shimmering red ball flew from the figure's hand and impacted on the guard's chest, sending him flying through the air. "Please, don't waste your time with me," the figure said and with that he turned and walked out of the building.

For a few moments nobody moved, all eyes were on the departing figure, and then on the box. Wesley was the first to speak. "Well, that was unexpected."

"Yeah," Angel nodded. Wesley cautiously approached the box. "You think that guy was telling the truth?"

"For now its best we assume that he was." Wesley walked around the box, studying it from every angle.

"So we've got just under four hours to figure out what this is about." Angel played back the conversation in his head, considering the man's words, looking for clues as to how they could solve this. "He didn't give us much to go on did he?"

"No, he didn't," Wesley agreed. "In fact he didn't give us anything. All we've got to go on is this box." Wesley crouched, edging closer and closer to it. "Perhaps these engravings will point us in the right direction." He stretched his hand towards it. The tension in the lobby cranked up a few notches as his hand got closer and closer. Then he was touching the box. Wesley gave a sigh of relief that the device hadn't gone off. Carefully he picked it up and turned to over in his hands. "Fred should take a look at this too. Perhaps she can figure out if it really is a bomb, and if it is she might be able to turn it off."

"But I don't want anyone tampering with it until we're absolutely certain that it won't blow up in our faces," Angel said. He felt a little out of place with this one. Demons, monsters and fiends from hell he could deal with; Mysterious boxes and riddling robed men, not so much.

"Don't worry, we'll handle this very very carefully." Wesley headed for the elevator. Angel followed.

"Oh…" Angel turned back to see the waiting guards. "You can all go back to your posts. Uh…good job," he said and then continued towards the elevator.

The guards looked round at each other. This new boss really was taking some getting used to.

xXxXxXx

Adrian Wallace answered his ringing cellphone.

"The package is delivered." And the caller hung up. Wallace nodded. Things were progressing nicely so far. One half of this evening's entertainment was in motion, and the other should be starting within the next couple of hours. All his life he had been preparing for this moment, the beginning of his journey, a journey that his family had long been destined for. It was only in the past few years that he learned that the honor of this mission would be falling on him, finally the destined time had arrived and he had the fortune of being the man in line for the job.

He sat on the comfortable sofa in his hotel suite and used the remote to switch on the T.V. His work for the night was mostly done. All that he had to do now was relax and see if everything turned out the way it was meant to.

xXxXxXx

Lucy Patrick yawned, running her hand through her long blond hair. She was eighteen years old, and was in her bedroom, typing an English paper that was due in tomorrow morning. So far she wasn't having much luck. Jane Austin was definitely not her favorite author. She took her hands off the keyboard and rubbed her eyes. It was only just after seven o'clock and already she was tired. Lucy reached for her drink, a diet cola, and took a few sips, running possible next sentences through her mind.

She decided to take a break for a few minutes, clear her head and see if she could get herself to think about the text from a new angle.

Lucy was a normal girl, she knew nothing of the dark world that came out at night. She did pretty well at school, had a wide circle of friends, loving parents and a steady job working in coffee shop at the weekends. She had no boyfriend at the moment. She lived a decent life, a life without any contact with the supernatural world.

However, this was about to change.

xXxXxXx

Charles Gunn was in his office, finishing off the paperwork from his latest case: A Wolfram and Hart client accused of serious fraud. Gunn had successfully delivered a not-guilty verdict. Surprisingly for a W&H client Gunn was actually fairly sure that the man had really been innocent of the charges. He sighed and put down his pen. It had been a long long day. He was reaching to pick up the pen again when he heard singing.

"_Take my love, take my land, take me where I cannot stand_" Lorne sang loud and clear his voice resonating wonderfully throughout the lobby on the executive floor of the Wolfram and Hart building. "_I don't care, I'm still free you can't take the sky from me_." Gunn walked out into the lobby from his office. "_Take me out, to the black, tell them I ain't comin' back. I don't care, I'm still free, since I found Serenity."_ Gunn looked up to see Lorne standing on the upper level at the top of the stairs, dressing in a bright yellow suit with a bright red shirt. "Well hello there stranger, haven't seen you in what…a week?" Lorne smiled down at him.

"I've been busy," Gunn replied. "Just got the case finished today, still got a mountain of paperwork to do though." The workers who had paused to listen to the green demon's song went back to their business.

"Well why don't you leave it till tomorrow, I happen to have nabbed a few tickets to a preview screening of this new movie that's comin' out." Lorne produced the tickets from his pants pocket.

"Sounds good but…"

"But we have other things to worry about," Angel said as he walked across the lobby towards them.

"And what's got you in such a doomy gloomy mood?" Lorne asked as he started down the stairs.

"In a few hours time this building's going to explode."

"That would do it," Lorne nodded, his good cheer fading.

"Explode? How?" Gunn was a little surprised. Angel quickly explained the situation with the mysterious glowing green box, and the threat it posed to the building and to the surrounding city.

"I want you to work with Wes and Fred, see if you can find this contract the guy mentioned," Angel said to Gunn, who wasn't at all surprised that his assignment meant more paper work. Then the vampire turned to Lorne. "Could you…"

"Check the usual contacts, find out if anyone knows who our delivery guy is."

Angel nodded. "The guy had some magical power, he's bound to be known to someone." Lorne gave a small wave and then started walking towards the elevator, taking out his cell phone and speed-dialing as he walked.

"What about you?" Gunn asked.

"I'm going to hit the streets, check the less sociable parts of town."

xXxXxXx

Winfred Burkle was wearing her lab coat, the glowing box was on the worktop in front of her. In her hands was a Geiger-counter, clicking intermittently. "Radiation levels aren't dangerous," she proclaimed and set down the device.

"Good to know." Wesley hadn't even considered that particular risk when he had picked it up from the lobby floor. Fred picked up a digital camera and began taking pictures of the box from various angles. Wesley was looking at the box, almost mesmerized by the green pulse.

"Do you recognize the language?" Fred asked, indicating the symbols carved into the wood of the box.

"No," Wesley frowned, "I don't think I've ever seen it before." The symbols were important. The symbols were the only clues that they had to go on to try and figure out exactly what this was all about.

"Here you go." Fred had finished taking the pictures and she handed Wesley the camera.

"Thank you." Wesley took it, his eyes still fixed on the box.

"It don't look all that dangerous really, in fact, it's kinda pretty," Fred commented.

"Yes." Wesley nodded, that light certainly had a pleasant quality. "But appearances can be deceptive," He shook his head to clear it. "Let me know if you find out anything that might be useful to figuring out where this came from." Wesley started towards the lab's exit.

"Alright, I'll get started on the more detailed tests." Fred watched Wesley leaving, and then she returned her gaze to the box, determined to uncover its secrets.

Wesley went to his office in Wolfram and Hart's research department. He connected the digital camera up to his desktop computer and brought up the pictures. He printed out hard copies of them. He studied the pictures, searching for a clue, somewhere to start his research from.

xXxXxXx

The patrons of the dark and dingy bar looked up at the newcomer, expressions of revulsion and hatred formed on their faces. "You're not welcome here," the hairy, muscular demon bartender growled, reaching under the counter and producing a sawn-off double barrel shotgun, leveling it at the newcomer's chest. This was followed by murmurs of: "Get lost vampire" and "Soulboy". Then chatter around the bar fell silent, all eyes turning toward the newcomer, waiting to see what he would do.

Angel surveyed the demons gathered in the bar, there was quite a mix, most of them strong and very mean looking. "I'm looking for information about a man," Angel held up a picture taken from Wolfram and Hart's lobby surveillance. "I need to know who he works for." The demons glared at him. Suddenly one from near the back came marching towards him; bring up a crossbow, taking aim at Angel's heart. The demon fired. Angel sidestepped and twisted to the left, avoiding the deadly bolt, he continued round, spinning and drawing his sword. It was obvious that he wasn't going to get any information out of these guys. He decided that his best option would be to move on, try somewhere else. He stepped back towards the door, "You know, I'm sensing a little hostility here, so I think I'll just be going." Just as he reached the door it opened. Angel turned to face the demon that was entering the bar. He was six and a half feet tall, grey skinned and built like a tank. The demon bristled with natural armor and his knuckles were tipped with stubby protrusions. Angel looked up at the demon. "Or maybe not," he grimaced.

"Vampire," the demon hissed with pure contempt and introduced his left fist to Angel's face. Unsurprisingly the two didn't get along.

Angel flew back through the air, his brain rattling around inside his skull from the impact. He crashed into a table with such force that he sent the demons sitting at it sprawling across the floor. Drinks, snacks, and broken furniture showered the nearby patrons.

Angel opened his eyes, everything was a disjointed blur. He had actually been unconscious for a second. He the whole left side of his face stung, he knew that there would already be nasty bruises. There was also a line of four circular wounds on his face where the demon's knuckles had done their damage. As the swirls and starbursts faded the sight of a barstool coming down at his head brought him fully back into the world. Angel rolled to the right, the stool smashing into pieces where he had been just a moment before. He lashed out at the nearest demon, breaking the demon's knee joint, the vicious snap eliciting a scream of pain from the creature. Angel got up to his feet, his face contorting to its vampire state. "You think you can fight us all?" The bartender laughed, the shotgun leveled at Angel's chest. Angel looked around at the demons. It seemed unlikely that he would be able to defeat all of them. The demons were all drawing weapons, the majority of them bladed. They watched him, they hissed and growled at him, and they taunted him. Angel took out his sword, holding it prone in his right hand. "If you give up now I'll kill ya quick," a pug-faced blue demon offered, tossing a stake between his hands. Angel replied by looking into his eyes, the vampire's look said all that needed to be said. In the vampire's gaze was determination, the instinct to survive. Angel slowly turned around, watching out for the attack. The demons continued to snap at him and mock him, but they too were waiting. Angel guessed that they were waiting for the bartender, waiting for him to give them the signal to kill.

xXxXxXx

Wesley closed yet another huge volume, sighing in frustration. He sat back from the desk, pushed the unhelpful book away and rubbed his eyes. After a few moments he took a deep breath, cleared his head and then went back to the stack of pictures. The answer was here, he knew it. Those symbols had to mean something, if he could figure it out then there was a good chance that they could work out a way of preventing the destruction of Wolfram and Hart. He paused again. That was a thought that had never occurred to him. A few mere months ago the idea of the Wolfram and Hart building being obliterated would have brought him a certain happiness, perhaps even joy. But now, here he was, working for the very enemy he had spent so long fighting against.

Wesley shook his head, marveling at the twists and turns life took. Then he got back to business. He studied the images, trying to find something that would jog his memory and lead him to the clue. Another possibility surfaced in his mind, one of the symbols looked similar to one he had seen before. Once more he stood and wandered over to the bookshelf, searching for the text that might finally yield results.

xXxXxXx

Kaboom!

Buckshot exploded from both barrels of the shotgun. Angel threw himself to the left. The wide distribution of pellets caught several of the demons with grazing impacts. Most of the shot was buried in the chest and face of the demon that had been behind Angel at the moment of firing, but some of it tore into Angel's coat. Fortunately he received nothing more than a few scratches. The demon was not so fortunate, it was knocked flat onto his back, where it stayed. Angel wasted no time. He swung his sword round, slicing though the legs of a demon, and then rolled up to clash blades with another. He knew he had to get out of here, and get out fast. Demons lunged at him from all sides, swinging weapons and limbs. Angel frantically defended the most dangerous attacks, several of the lesser threats got through, punches and kicks impacting on his body. A beer bottle came flying through the melee, smashing on Angel's forehead, dousing him with alcohol, causing stinging pain to rise anew in his wounds. Angel had not a moment to spare for attack, everything he had was focused on blocking the lethal blows and those most likely to cause him serious injury. Knowing he had to break the demons attack he suddenly hurled himself at one of the aggressors, knocking him to the ground. Now the circle was broken he had a few moments of freedom. He swung his sword, decapitating a demon on his left, and continued moving, slicing the tip of his sword through the throat of a demon who obviously regarded himself to be a bit of a biker-dude. In the corner of his eye Angel saw the bartender raising the shotgun again. As the bartender pulled the trigger Angel grabbed the dying biker-dude and pulled him into the path of the buckshot. Angel then threw the now dead biker-dude at the bartender.

The demons were quickly back on his case. A crossbow bolt narrowly missed his head and instead pierced the eye of a tall red skinned demon. Angel felt more punches connect, one catching his jaw and spinning him round suddenly, almost allowing another biker-dude to decapitate him with an axe. Angel managed to block and then kicked behind him, sending another demon reeling back, clutching his abdomen. Angel slashed left and right, the second swing ripping a gushing gash across the axe wielder's stomach.

The bartender was methodically reloading his shotgun, easing the shells into place.

Angel again leapt, swinging his sword left and right as fast as he could, twisting to dodge an axe. He reached the bar and vaulted over it. The bartender brought the shotgun up, but wasn't quite fast enough. Angel buried his sword in the bartender's chest and with his other hand relieved him of the shotgun. The bartender's eyes went wide, he coughed, a trickle of blood spluttered from his mouth. Angel pulled back his blade and ducked as two crossbow bolts were fired, both smashing into bottles that were lined up behind the bar.

Angel ran down the space behind the bar. There were no demons in his way. Several tried to stop him by reaching across with fists and weapons, but Angel managed to evade them. He reached the end of the bar, which was quite near the doors. However the big hulking grey monster was still there, waiting for him. Angel brought up the shotgun as he vaulted back over the bar. He pulled the trigger, both barrels blasting in the demon's face. Angel had no time to stop, from behind a demon lunged at him with a small knife. The vampire sidestepped and with a swift movement severed the knife-wielding hand at the wrist. He spun again. The big grey demon's face was a mess of grey gore, both eyeballs had burst, fluid from the sockets streamed down the demon's face. He was screaming in pain and anger, lashing out indiscriminately with his armored fists. Angel ducked one of the punches, the fist instead connecting with a blue skinned demon, sending its head into the mob.

Angel quickly dashed around the grey demon, narrowly avoiding another random but immensely powerful swing. The other demons in the bar were weary of going anywhere near the big guy. Angel quickly exited, leaving the chaos and carnage of the bar behind him.

xXxXxXx

Nurse Sanchez couldn't stop thinking about that patient; Miss Chase. The nurse couldn't shake the certainty she had that something was about to happen, that something was about to change. Sanchez was annoyed at herself for giving such weight to such a silly, baseless feeling. The patient hadn't shown any sign of waking since her arrival in the hospital, so why should tonight feel different? There was no change in the patient's condition, but still Sanchez felt that change was on its way. A big change.

xXxXxXx

"Room service," the words followed a polite knock at the door.

"Come in," the room's guest said. The smartly attired waiter entered, pushing a little trolley with a large cheeseburger and fries on a plate and a bottle of champagne in a shiny ice bucket. Adrian Wallace stood from his seat and tipped the waiter twenty dollars. The waiter thanked him and left.

Wallace moved the trolley to beside the sofa. He poured himself a glass of the champagne, it was the genuine article, the most expensive that the hotel offered. It was indeed a time for celebration. He took a few bites from his cheeseburger and a few sips of his champagne. Wallace was completely relaxed. He looked over at the room's clock and smiled. Time was getting on. The second act of tonight's proceedings would soon be beginning. Wallace was looking forward to this part more than the little incident at Wolfram and Hart. The second part was much more interesting and would have much deeper and far reaching consequences.

Adrian Wallace was completely relaxed. Tonight was the start of it all, a night to be enjoyed. After this night the work level would be stepping up, and keep on stepping up until his great mission was complete.

xXxXxXx

Angel sighed as he sat down in his big executive chair in his big executive office. The various cuts and bruises he had received in the fight were still stinging a little. He glanced at the little clock on his desk. It was just past nine o'clock. Less than three hours to go until the midnight deadline arrived. There were places he could go to try and find information about the mystery messenger, but he had the feeling that he wouldn't get very far. This felt like an academic puzzle, something that would be solved with books and science, neither of which he was particularly adept at.

He was startled by the sudden sound of his cellphone ringing. He quickly took it from his pocket and answered.

"Angel, its Fred," the voice on the other end said. "I've finished the tests."

xXxXxXx

Angel entered the pristine and white Wolfram and Hart labs. Wesley, Gunn and Fred were waiting for him in front of a work bench upon which the device was still pulsing steadily.

"What happened to you?" Gunn asked, Angel was still getting used to seeing the former street-fighter in an expensive suit.

"Went to a new demon bar downtown. Turns out vampires are strictly off the guest list."

"Are you alright?" Wesley thought that some of Angel's facial bruising looked very nasty.

"I'll be fine," Angel nodded and then he looked to Fred. "So, what's the news?"

Fred's expression made it pretty clear that what she had to tell them wasn't good. "As far as I can tell this box contains a massive amount of magical energy, easily enough to cause an explosion big enough to destroy the building and everything else in a ten block radius, just like the man said."

Angel wasn't surprised, the man who had delivered the bomb hadn't seemed like the type to lie. Still, now that it was confirmed the threat seemed a hell of a lot closer. "Do you think you might be able to shut it off?"

"No, no I don't think I can." Fred's eyes flicked down to the floor, her tone and body language a miss of disappointment and frustration. "It's sealed up tight, I can't be sure that it won't detonate if I try to open it, or make a hole in the outer shell."

Angel quickly moved on, time was ticking by. "Wes, have you managed to find out anything about the box or the guy that delivered it?"

"Nothing so far," Wes shared Fred's frustrations. "I haven't been able to locate any of the symbols on the box. The delivery man's robes didn't have any significantly distinguishing features, he could belong to any number of occult groups, there are literally thousands of possibilities."

"Gunn?" Angel looked to the legal minded man, though he wasn't expecting any better news.

"I got nothing, we don't have enough information to even know where to begin searching the contract and client files. I need more info so I can narrow down the search."

Angel nodded and looked to each of them in turn, all three looked right back at him.

"Okay," Angel said, "Fred, keep looking at this thing, any possible angle that might help us, what its made of, anything that might help figure out who made it. Absolutely anything you can think of." He shifted his gaze to Wesley, "These symbols must mean something, somewhere there has to be an answer. Get on to the other city offices, get as many people as possible on this, the other cities will probably cooperate, after all this is a major Wolfram and Hart building, it would be bad for everyone if it gets wiped out. Call in as many employees as you need." He then quickly turned to Gunn. "Make sure your ready to go as soon as Wes finds something, we don't have much time to figure this out." Angel's eyes settled on the box. "We need to figure this out." His next words were words he had never imagined he would be saying, "We need to save Wolfram and Hart."


	3. Act Two

_**ACT TWO**_

Angel was in his office. He looked out of the huge windows, looking out at the bright lights of the Los Angeles night. He could see the cars, the people. All of them out there were in terrible danger; and all of them were completely oblivious to it.

He had gotten used to the view surprisingly quickly. Being here, at Wolfram and Hart, still didn't feel quite right, but that was probably because the firm had been his constant enemy since he had arrived in L.A. Being suddenly in charge would take time to get used to. He hoped that he would get used to it. And he hoped that he had made the right decision by accepting the offer to run this place. He knew that the Partners wouldn't have done this unless there was some evil purpose built into the deal. Angel could in some ways see it already. Some of, well almost all of, their clients were most certainly not on the side of good, but slowly things were changing. The firm's law abiding clientele was on the up, and most of the firm's evil practices (human sacrifices, demon worship etc) had been put to a stop. The truly evil employees had been shown the door, some of them forcibly. Slowly but surely things for Wolfram and Hart were turning around.

He was brought out of his thoughts by a knock at the door. "Come in," he said as he turned to face his visitor. Lorne burst in and practically ran over to him.

"Good news Angel-Pie, I think I might have a lead on your mystery man." Lorne said with his usual energetic style. "I got a call from Quentin, you remember Quentin, he was here a few weeks back, occult supplier to the stars, he brought a friend over to sing for me, he was wearing that absolutely divine silk…"

"The lead?" Angel interrupted.

"Right, anyway, Quentin's always been a bit of a player in the more, benevolent, occult circles, and he's heard about this girl. Apparently there's some sort of powerful mystical energy inside her. The tell-tale sign is a birthmark on her right forearm, a semi-circle with a little triangle underneath. This guy in robes has apparently been looking for this girl, doing a bit of asking around, but keeping himself well under the usual radar."

Angel listened patiently. What he really wanted to know was where he was supposed to go and what he was supposed to kill.

"Anyway, Quentin tracked down the girl, apparently she went to see a fortune-teller a couple of days ago, she happened to pick one of the few in this town that ain't a phony. The fortune-teller told Quentin."

"The delivery guy has been looking for her. Did Quentin have any idea why he's looking for her?"

"No, all he's got is that she's somehow mystically important, and she has a birthmark."

"How was Quentin supposed to contact the guy?" Angel was hopeful, finding the robed man would be very helpful.

"He wasn't. The guy said he'd get back to him in a few days," Lorne said in a breaking-bad-news tone. "But, he does have an address on the girl."

"If we figure out what he wants with her we might be able to figure out who he is, and where he is," Angel nodded. At last, a clear plan of action, no more hanging around waiting for Wes and Fred to come up with answers. "Okay, what's the address?"

xXxXxXx

Sitting, tied to the chair with ropes. Quentin looked his captor in the eyes. They were cold, ruthless. "I did what you asked, I told him what you wanted me to tell him." The man in the earthy red robes just smiled. The smile combined with the man's facial scars gave him an air of terrible cruelty. "You said you'd let me go," Quentin's words were slightly mumbled, partly because of his fear, but mostly due to the fact that he was missing of his several teeth. There was dried blood on his chin, left uncleaned after the agonizing amateur dentistry that the kidnapper had so much enjoyed. The robed man just went on smiling as he took out his cellphone. He speed-dialed and spoke when the call was answered, "It's done."

From the other end of the line the voice of Adrian Wallace gave the robed man a simple, two-word, command and then ended the call. The man put his cellphone away.

"You said you would let me go," Quentin pleaded, his eyes again welling up with tears. The man slipped a small knife into his hand from up his sleeve, he kept it concealed from his prisoner's sight.

"You're right, I did say that," the robed man nodded as he slowly stepped towards him. A flicker of hope came to life in those teary eyes, a moment in which Quentin thought that he might finally get out of this, might finally be allowed to leave here alive.

"I lied," the robed man grinned. With a sudden, swift movement he slashed the blade across Quentin's throat.

xXxXxXx

In the Wolfram and Hart labs the box continued its steady green pulse. With every second of time that trickled past the moment when the awesome power within would be released came closer and closer, and closer. There were now just two hours and thirty-seven minutes to go until midnight.

xXxXxXx

Books were open all across the desk, a thick layer covering every inch of the desk's surface. Scattered over the top, as if sprinkled as the finishing touch on a very odd cake, were photographs, the pictures of the symbols. Wesley sat back and closed his eyes. He was no stranger to high pressure research, and no stranger to research taking a long time. Right now he felt completely useless, helpless to figure out how to solve this problem. The answer was right there in front of him, he could feel it. Those symbols were the key, they had to mean something. His eyes scanned the pictures, darting from picture to picture, hoping to notice something that he hadn't noticed before. He knew he was missing something, that there was some angle that he hadn't considered. The frustration came from the fact that he also had absolutely no idea what that angle might be.

His eyes continued to move from symbol to symbol.

What were they? What were they saying?

He leaned forward and shifted the pictures around, some of them he couldn't see properly because another photograph overlapped it.

And suddenly as he set down one of the pictures something in his mind clicked into place. His eyes were on the picture, but also on the book that that picture was right beside it. The open book had pictures of many symbols. The symbols didn't match any that were in the photographs. However, the symbol in the picture was part of one of the symbols in the book.

Wesley quickly gathered up the photographs and went through them all. He found what he was looking for. The frustration and despair gave way to hope and the euphoric feeling that he had finally found what he was looking for. One box symbol on its own meant nothing. However if it was combined with another, it matched one of the symbols in this particular book.

Now that he knew what to do he quickly set about the task of matching up the symbols. From there he could use the book to figure out what they meant.

xXxXxXx

Angel had taken a car from the Wolfram and Hart collection, a Dodge Viper. The time factor was making his driving a little reckless, he was taking the corners too fast and he had come close to having a smash a couple of times. After the third near-miss he forced himself to slow down to a safer, but still fast, speed.

As he neared the address he slowed right down, not wanting to cause the girl any alarm with a big noisy arrival.

Angel pulled up outside the building, it was a run-down looking five-story tenement. The apartment he was looking for was on the top floor.

As Angel was entering the building another visitor reached the top floor. He was here to see the very same young woman. His purpose however was not to talk, but to kill.

He was a demon, with many of the attributes associated with villainous creatures. He had lizard-like scaly scarlet skin. His face was long and narrow, the protruding snout featured four slits for nostrils. The large, deep-set, eyes were green with light-blue pupils. Within his mouth were double rows of sharp yellowed teeth. Despite his large, muscular body the demon moved with the agility of a tiger.

The demon took quiet steps as he approached the target apartment. Slowly the long fingers of his right hand curled around the handle of his specially crafted knife. It was his most favorite weapon, many had lost their lives to its meticulously sharpened blade.

He drew the knife; standing in front of the door. He glanced briefly up and down the corridor; there was no one. He knocked three times on the door. After waiting a few seconds he knocked again; a little louder this time. There was the sound of movement from inside the apartment. The door remained closed.

The demon smashed the door open with a single kick. He went into the dull and dingy apartment, his eyes instantly fell upon the target.

She was a petite brunette, in her mid-twenties. The demon supposed she was reasonably pretty, by human standards. The short sleeves of her t-shirt left the all important birthmark fully visible. It was all that the demon needed to see. She was definitely the one he was looking for. She looked at him, her eyes widening in terror.

The moment Angel reached the top floor he knew that something was terribly wrong. The musky odor immediately set off demon-alert alarm bells in his mind. He dashed along the corridor, and another even more unnerving scent caught in his nostrils: The smell of human blood. As he had feared both demon and blood were found at his destination.

He dashed into the apartment. The young woman was on the floor. She was dead. Her cause of death was no mystery; there were several stab wounds all over her body. The demon was holding a very bloody knife.

Angel drew his sword. The demon had murdered an innocent young woman, he had destroyed his only lead in the current crisis.

The demon was obviously surprised to see him, but that didn't bring the vampire any real advantage. The demon twisted to the left to avoid Angel's opening attack. The vampire-with-a-soul's follow-up punch caught the demon on the side of the head. The demon went with the blow, spinning around, his left foot slamming into Angel's chest. Angel staggered back, raising his defenses for the demon's next assault. But it didn't come. The demon took a couple of steps back, regarding his enemy with curiosity.

"Who are you?" The demon growled his demand.

"The name's Angel." The demon showed no sign that he recognized the name.

"I have killed her." The pride in the demon's voice brought anger within Angel rising to the surface. "You failed," the demon grinned. "You are too late."

"Not too late to kill you." Angel darted forward, swinging his sword. This evil demon murderer had taken a life and was proud of it. Angel intended to make sure that this demon would never ever harm anyone else.

The demon dodged Angel's sword attacks, watching carefully, tightening his grip on his knife. He picked his moment and then he made his strike, delivering a powerful punch to the vampire's face. As his enemy recoiled the demon lashed out with the knife.

Angel saw the blade coming and managed to shift himself out of its path. Now the demon was on the offensive, Angel blocked four rapid knife attacks from the creature with his sword. Then he swung wildly, hoping to drive the demon back. By sheer luck the sword swing scored a hit on the demon, slicing a five inch wound across the demon's chest.

The demon leapt back in surprise and in pain. He glanced down at the injury. It was seeping dark red blood. He was glad to find that the wound was not particularly deep. The vampire flashed him a smug grin.

Angel had been just as surprised as the demon, but he wasn't going to make the mistake of not taking advantage of his good fortune. He jabbed with the sword, aiming to stab into the wound on the demon's chest. The demon however recovered from his surprise in time to use his knife to defect the attack. Angel pushed forward; the demon employed a combination of dodges and knife-work to defend. Again the demon carefully watched Angel's every move, waiting for the right moment to launch a counter-attack. The demon weaved his knife in a complicated pattern in front of him when he wasn't using it to block a blow from the vampire's sword, keeping the vampire's attention on it. The demon remained calm, remained steady. He knew that he would not fall this day, he would live and continue his struggle, continue the fight he had dedicated his life to winning. The demon watched, and as he planned the vampire was keeping a close watch on the knife, watching in case that knife suddenly came right at him.

It wasn't the knife he had to worry about.

Angel realized his small error too late.

When the vampire's eyes shifted to follow the knife blade as it arced to the left the demon lunged.

The demon crashed shoulder-first into Angel, driving him back. Angel brought his sword round in a powerful swing, hoping to slice deep into the demon's left side. The demon reacted by delivering three rapid-fire punches to Angel's right shoulder. Then he grabbed Angel's wrist in a tight grip. Angel gritted his teeth and struggled to break free. The demon squeezed, jagged spikes of pain shot up Angel's arm, and down to his hand. After clinging on for a few long seconds Angel released his hold on his sword. It fell to the floor with a thud.

Angel gave the demon's leg a couple of swift kicks being careful to avoid unbalancing himself. The demon took them without flinching. The fight was not going too well. The pain from his wrist was becoming unbearable; he could feel his bones beginning to relent to the crushing pressure. The demon suddenly brought the knife up stabbing it at Angel's face. Angel managed to grab a hold of the demon's wrist just in time, the tip of the blade coming to a shaky stop mere millimeters from his eye. The demon growled, pushing against Angel, shifting the blade another millimeter towards the eyeball. Angel roared as he transformed from human form to his demonic state. He tightened his grip on the demon's wrist, and the demon did the same to him. The two of them staggered around the room, trying to break free of each other, the demon still trying to bury the blade in Angel's eye socket. They smashed into a wall, breaking a clock, cracking it into pieces. The knife jerked forward, almost reaching its target. Angel squeezed the wrist of the hand holding it; the demon also applied more crushing pressure to Angel's arm.

They staggered back out into the middle of the apartment, both struggling to gain superior footing. Mostly for lack of a better plan Angel suddenly changed tactics. Angel let his knees buckle and he released his hold on the demon's wrist, twisting himself away from the weapon. The blade of the knife scratched across his cheek as the demon stumbled forward. With his free fist Angel met the demon's forward momentum with a powerful punch to the snout that sent the demon reeling back, his hold on Angel's right wrist loosening.

Angel wrenched his arm free; the burning agony hardly subsided at all. Blood trickled from the demon's four nostrils, his eyes wide and furious as he regained his balance. Angel moved in for the attack but the demon caught him by surprise with a devastating kick, slamming him in the chest and sending him flying back across the room. As Angel was getting back up on to his feet the demon ran over and kicked him again, this time in the stomach. Angel was lifted off the floor and sailed out of the apartment's door. He didn't make it clear through the doorframe, his left arm and leg both smashing into it, spinning him around before he crashed into the corridor wall.

The demon grinned in satisfaction.

Angel took a few moments to get up, shaking off the haziness that had swelled across his mind.

"It's been fun," the demon smiled at him and then dashed for the window. Angel moved to stop him. The demon crashed through the window shattering the glass and frame. Angel arrived at the window to see the demon land, cracking a shallow crater into the side walk below. The demon turned and looked up at him for a second before sprinting away.

Angel considered pursing, but he didn't think he'd be able to take such a high drop without incapacitating injury. He turned to the body of the young woman. The really hadn't taken any chances. Her heart, her lungs, her stomach, and her liver had received two or three stab wounds each. Blood soaked her clothing. Angel also noted that her arm had a deep cut on it, presumably where the birthmark was. Her eyes were open in a death stare, looking up at him. All the usual what-ifs ran through his mind. What if he had been a few seconds earlier? What if he had driven faster? What if he had ran faster up the stairs? He shook his head. No was not the time for such questions. He had to focus on moving forward. Angel had a look around the apartment, searching for any possible clues that might help to figure out a solution to the situation back at Wolfram and Hart. There was however nothing. Any possible lead that the woman may have provided had died with her. From a bank statement he noted her name as being Marie Elliott, he figured it might be useful to run her name through the Wolfram and Hart databases, just in case it lead to something of use. The only other avenue of investigation from here was the demon that killed her. If he could figure out why the demon killed her it might give him a starting point for a new line of investigation.

Angel looked down at the body one last time, vowing that her death would not go unpunished. Then he left the apartment.

xXxXxXx

In the building across the street the robed man lowered his binoculars. Things were progressing as the boss had outlined in his plan.

The robed man was a servant, not just of Wallace, but of a far greater power. Wallace was his link to the great one. He was not yet worthy of actual direct communication with the great one, but after tonight he would be. The robed man worshiped the Demon God MalKlan. MalKlan was a master worth following. He would bring a pure justice to the world, MalKlan would bring order to this hateful and chaotic world. The robed man knew that as long as he played his role then he would soon be talking to MalKlan and learn the full extent of the God's exquisite plans, and the part that he was to play in those plans.

He tuned and looked at Quentin's corpse, still tied tight to the chair. The robed man had no trouble killing, in fact, in the service of MalKlan he found taking the life of an unworthy and wasteful human to be a pleasure.

The robed man called Wallace again and informed him that the girl was dead, that the demon was still alive and that the Wolfram and Hart vampire C.E.O had now left the scene.

The robed man waited a few minutes after Angel had driven away before leaving the grubby apartment and leaving the building, going onward to his next task in MalKlan's great plan.

xXxXxXx

Wallace felt good. The robed man was really proving himself to be a truly committed follower of MalKlan, just as he had known he would be when he recruited him. Wallace had finished his meal and half of the bottle of champagne; the other half he was going to save for the celebrations when the night's entertainment was over. Now he was watching a movie, a fantasy about noble heroes and villains intent on taking over the world. The difference between the movie and reality was that in the end the world would not be saved, not after he had finished with it.

He checked his watch again. It wouldn't be long now. Not long at all until the awakening.

xXxXxXx

The box continued to pulse its steady countdown. The destructive power within would not remained contained for much longer. Just over two hours remained.

xXxXxXx

"Pu-lease tell me you got somethin'," Charles Gunn said as he entered the room. Wesley looked up at him. Gunn could see the excitement of discovery in the Englishman's eyes. At last, maybe there was finally going to be some progress.

Gunn had been feeling more than a bit left out of the action on this one. Now finally Wes might have the information needed for him to step up.

"Oh yes, I've got something alright," Wes nodded and motioned to the mess of papers, photographs and books. Gunn came over and looked at the mess. Only Wes could see order in such chaos, he mused. Wesley quickly explained how he had found that the symbols had to be paired up in order to make any sense of them. Wes then started to go on to explain in detail the symbols and the culture behind them. He realized he was babbling and stoped himself.

"Anyway," Wes sighed, it was a relief to at last start moving towards solving the problem they were facing. "I've almost managed to assemble the symbols, once I have it shouldn't take any longer then a few minutes for me to translate them."

xXxXxXx

Lucy Patrick had made steady progress in her analysis of the joys of Jane Austin. A brief phone call from her best friend, Sandra Hynd, arranging a girlie night out for the coming Saturday had so far been the only thing she had allowed to distract her.

She was flicking through one of the books, searching for a particular quote. Absently she scratched her right arm. Lucy returned to the computer, quotation found, and resumed typing. Over the next minutes she continued to scratch. She eventually noticed that the itch wasn't going away. She stopped typing and rolled up the sleeve of her sweater. The skin of her right forearm was red, it looked almost like a minor burn. Lucy frowned; she had no idea where she might have picked up a burn or an injury. She wondered if it might be some sort of allergic reaction. Even as she looked at the redness it was slowly, but visibly, getting worse. The itch was also getting worse, it felt like there were thousands and thousands and thousands of tiny insects crawling around under her skin. She scratched the rash furiously for a few seconds, but it made no difference. Lucy felt confusion and panic welling up inside. She had no idea what this was, but she knew deep down that it wasn't something good. The itching was becoming unbearable, it was starting to feel more like a fiery, stinging sensation. The redness was now practically glowing. Lucy scratched the itch frantically, desperate for it to stop, desperate for the awful, burning, terrible itching to end.

And then suddenly it was over.

Lucy stared at the arm in disbelief. The redness had vanished along with the itching, there was no sign that it had ever been there. She wondered if perhaps she had been daydreaming or something, if maybe it had all be in her mind. She looked closer, running her fingers over where moments ago there had been a horrible rash. It was truly gone, vanished without a trace. She went into the bathroom and splashed her face with water. It had been the worst feeling she had ever experienced. Now it that it was gone she felt such wonderful relief. She went back into room and slipped her sleeve back down. After a moment she resumed her work.

Beneath her sleeve however something was beginning to appear on her skin.

xXxXxXx

As she walked along the corridor, on her way to give the patient at the end of the hall his pills, Nurse Sanchez felt a sudden shiver go right up her spine. She stopped in her tracks, knowing exactly who was in the room she had stopped outside. Cordelia Chase's.

She slowly turned and stepped toward the room. She looked through the small window. Everything looked normal; the patient was still as motionless as ever. She was about to turn away when there was a sudden, blinding flash of light from within the room. Nurse Sanchez gasped, staggering back. She quickly looked up and down the corridor. No one appeared to have noticed the flash, or her odd behavior.

With uncertain steps Nurse Sanchez slowly went back to the window, her curiosity winning out over her fear of what she might see in that room.

After looking in she stepped back again. After taking a deep breath and gathering her thoughts and her courage she went inside.


	4. Act Three

_**ACT THREE**_

There was blackness, a constant, unending, utterly silent blackness. There had never been anything else. No past, no present, no future. There was only the dark. The nothing.

And then something changed.

The darkness gave way to awareness, an awareness of self. For a time there were no memories, there was no knowledge of anything outside of the unending dark.

But that changed. Slowly but surely the memories came back.

And then suddenly she found herself becoming more and more conscious to the world outside, she knew that she was lying down, she knew that somehow this would all be over soon.

Cordelia Chase felt a rush of energy, a rush of awareness, a white light that drove away all the darkness and brought everything back to her.

She opened her eyes, and closed them again right away. The light of the world hurt her eyes her arms and legs ached, the light of the world hurt her eyes.

"Miss Chase?" A voice called to her, a voice that didn't quite sound real, though Cordelia knew that it was real, that finally she was going to be free of all the dark she had suffered since…the invasion of her body. The was hope now, hope that she might be able to live, to get something back of the life she had lived before her ascension to the Higher Plain.

Cordelia tired to speak, but no words came.

"Miss Chase, can you hear me?" Cordelia felt her hand twitch, she was trying to acknowledge that she could hear and understand the voice.

"Miss Chase?" Cordelia felt a gentle touch on her shoulder. She took moment to gather her thoughts, to focus on responding, on interacting with the voice. She took a huge, deep breath and opened her eyes, forcing herself to keep them open. The light was harsh, painful, but that only lasted a few seconds. Her vision was blurry. She saw movement, a person.

"Can you hear me?" The voice came from the blurred human outline.

"Y-y-yes," Cordelia managed in a quiet voice. "Y-yes. I can hear you." As each moment passed she grew more awake, her vision was starting to come together, it felt like she was settling into her body again after an absence. She supposed that in a way that was pretty much an accurate description of what was happening to her.

"Cordelia do you know where you are?"

"Hospital," Cordelia looked around. Her body still ached, but her mind was getting sharper. "How long?" She now could see the nurse, she could see the look of disbelief on her face. The nurse didn't answer. "How long?" Cordelia asked again.

"Um…just over three months," the nurse replied. Cordelia had thought maybe a few days or a week or something like that. Three months. So much must have happened. In her life, in the life of fighting demons, so much must have happened in three months. She wondered what had happened, she wondered how Angel and the others were.

"I'm just going to get the doctor," the nurse told her and slowly backed out of the room.

Cordelia stared out of the door after her. Three months. At least it looked like the world was still there, that life had continued on in her absence. She lay, wondering and waiting for the doctors. She wanted to know everything, she wanted to know what had happened during all that lost time.

xXxXxXx

"It's done." Wesley sat back away from the table. He'd just finished double checking the symbols and then redoing the translation to be sure he's done it correctly.

"Okay, so what have we got?" Gunn stepped away from the window and rejoined Wes, a quick glance at his watch told him that only an hour and forty-five minutes remained until the midnight deadline. He was really starting to get the feeling they were gonna be cutting it close on this one.

"The symbols represent phonetic sounds, but these two," Wesley motioned to the notepad, "represent the beginning, and the end."

"So that means you know what order to read them in," Gunn nodded.

"Exactly." Wesley flipped the notebook to the next page where he had rewritten the symbols in their correct order. "In their correct sequence the symbols say: Ree-Low-Na-U-Pan-Si-Kee-Yit-Wu-N."

"In English?" Gunn raised his eyebrows.

"Armageddon," Wesley said ominously. "The language is Flusabvanian, I'll see if I can find out anything regarding Flusabvanian apocalyptic beliefs."

"And I'll check our records." Gunn turned and started to walk away from the desk, but he stopped and turned. "Could you write down that Flusabian part?"

xXxXxXx

Angel was sensing a pattern developing, for the second time in this insane night he was driving fast, racing to a destination to see a young woman. This time however he was sure that she wasn't going to be dead when he got there, he could feel it. This time something was going to turn out to be good about this night, something incredible had happened.

The call had come right out of the blue, and suddenly all the chaos surrounding the bomb crisis didn't matter anymore. The news brought by the call was news that he had almost given up on ever hearing.

"I'm calling to tell you a Miss Cordelia Chase has woken up," the voice of the doctor had said. Angel had hung up and immediately set off for the hospital.

He barely dared to hope that it was true. It could be a dream. It could be a trick. It could so easily be some sort of mistake, a mix-up. In his heart of hearts though Angel knew that it was real. He felt excited and terrified at the same time. Without her there had been something missing. She belonged with them, she was a part of it all. He recalled the beginning of Angel Investigations, he remembered the original team. He and Cordy and Doyle, fighting the good fight. He and Cordy had been in this together since the start, and even, though to a lesser degree, back in Sunnydale they had been battling side by side. And yes, his feelings for her were still there, the feelings so twisted and battered by the turmoil of Cordy and Connor and Cordelia's possession by evil. Those feelings were there. But the romantic love, he wasn't so sure of.

As the buildings and lights blurred by so did his thoughts, his feelings, his fears and hopes. The crisis back at Wolfram and Hart seemed almost insignificant now. In the back of his mind the fate of the last woman he had raced to meet surfaced. He knew it was a ridiculous fear, but he still drove much faster than was safe.

She was awake! Angel couldn't wait to see her.

xXxXxXx

Adrian Wallace checked his watch. He had a little thing to do in a little while, nothing too strenuous, just a little bit of a finishing touch to some magical mojo he'd performed earlier in the day. On the table beside him he had all the supplies for the incantation, a small blue crystal, a couple of candles and some assorted herbs in a little glass jar.

He turned his attention back to the TV, by the time the show he was watching was over it would be time.

xXxXxXx

Cordelia was sitting up in her bed. After a bit of prodding and poking the docs had left her alone, at her request. They had told her that someone was on their way to see her. She had a good idea about who it would be. She felt so detached from everything. Part of her was looking forward to seeing all her friends again, to getting back into things the way they were before, simpler times. She was actually looking forward to getting back to the hotel and back to the agency and getting back to the basics of the time before her little stint as a higher being.

At the same time though she was afraid. Mostly afraid that maybe someone wouldn't be there anymore, that maybe someone had been killed by the evil that had invaded her body. How would she be able to deal with it if someone had died because of her, because of what that thing had made her into? Maybe they wouldn't understand what had happened to her, maybe they would blame her for the rain of fire and the Beast and everything.

Cordelia took a breath to calm herself. For what felt like the bazillionth time the question of why she had awoken formed itself in her thoughts.

Then came the sound of commotion outside. Angel burst into the room, and their eyes met. For a moment they just stared at each other. Angel was overwhelmed and overjoyed to see her awake, Cordelia was so happy to see him, to know that he was alive and he was well.

"Hi," Cordelia finally managed to say, still fixed on his eyes.

"Hi," Angel replied and took a couple of steps into the room. She was awake, and she was Cordelia.

He took a few more steps forward. Suddenly he had no idea what to say to her, he had imagined this moment so many times, but none of those fictions fitted the reality.

"How are you feeling?" He finally asked.

"Okay I guess, a little tired, which is weird considering I've been asleep the past three months." Cordy gave him a little smile. "I'm okay." Angel sat in a chair at her bedside. "So what's been happening in the world while I've been having my little snooze-a-thon?"

"A lot," Angel said, suspecting that an understatement of the year award would soon be coming his way. "A lot has changed."

"What happened to that…thing that was living inside me? What was it? Did you kill it?"

"Jasmine," Angel nodded, that seemed so long ago. "She was a higher being of some sort, brought world peace briefly, turned everyone into her slaves, had a whole eating people thing. She as killed by Con…We killed her." Hoping Cordy didn't notice the near accidental mentioning of his son, the son that no one other than he knew he had due to Wolfram and Hart's little alteration of reality as part of his agreement to become the firm's L.A. CEO.

"I'm glad, is everyone…" Cordy didn't want to ask if the gang was still fully staffed.

"Wes, Gunn, Fred and Lorne, we're all still fighting the good fight," Angel said, not quite able to keep the pride from his voice. Suddenly he felt a chill, a moment of dread, a sense of an impending doom. The cause of this, it turned out, was Cordelia's next question.

"And what about Connor?"

She knew, she remembered. Wolfram and Hart's little adjustment had somehow missed out Cordelia. He saw the tangled web. This one question meant he would have to tell her everything when answering it. He would have to explain Wolfram and Hart's offer, he would have to explain what happened with Connor during, and after, the Jasmine situation. He felt guilty, but at the same time he knew what he had done was right. Connor had needed normality, he needed a life. Angel as his father had given him life, the life he deserved, a good life with a loving family. Wolfram and Hart had allowed him to provide for his son in a way that he could have never done himself.

"Angel?" Cordelia's brow furrowed in concern. She wondered if something had happened, if maybe Connor had been hurt. But she could see in Angel's eyes that it was something else. Something else had happened to Angel's son.

Angel looked down for a moment. Then he knew he had to explain everything to her. He looked up and nodded, it was probably best to start from the beginning, tell her everything that had happened since she had fallen into her coma.

"Cordelia," he began.

xXxXxXx

Charles Gunn was starting to get used to his shiny new job at Wolfram and Hart. The vast legal knowledge that the Partners had downloaded into his mind had felt almost overwhelming at times, but over the past three months it been slowly unfolded and clarified. His new position was one of authority, of importance. He now possessed a legal mind to rival that of any Los Angeles lawyer at any of the city's many firms. He found a passion for the law. Standing in a courtroom and making a case was a fantastic thrill and a fresh challenge that he relished. After fighting physical battles every day of his life since adolescence he now was fighting battles of an entirely different kind, battles on a mental level.

Gunn still kept himself fit and healthy, just because he had a little extra knowledge didn't mean he couldn't still get stuck into a fight when the occasion called for it. He saw his job as a lawyer as another aspect of his ever interesting life.

It hadn't taken him very long at all to locate the file that they need and he called a meeting with Wes, Fred and Lorne in one of the firm's conference rooms.

Gunn entered the conference room and saw that Wesley and Lorne were already there, beside each other at the top end of the left side of the conference table.

"Uh-oh," Lorne sighed, slouching back in his big chair.

"What is it?" Wesley asked.

"Aura, comin' in loud and clear," Lorne nodded to Gunn. "This isn't over by a long way yet."

"No, it ain't," Gunn confirmed, taking the seat at the head of the table, putting down a thin manila folder down in front of him.

Fred entered the room, and looked sheepishly at the others. "Sorry, I was just checking some results." She took a seat, the one directly across from Wesley.

Gunn patted the folder in front of him. "This is what we got, one case file on Flusabvanian Armageddon." Gunn opened to folder and removed the small stack of papers inside. "The really bad news is that this file isn't heavy on the details. All we got is a vault number and a list of names. I checked the names, all of them were Wolfram and Hart employees, it goes right back to the founding of the firm. These employees have been assigned this case and this case only for their whole careers. The vault in question is in the Wolfram and Hart vaults, however it's completely sealed up, I've taken a look and security have taken a look and they've told me that it's sealed with a blood spell."

"So it can only be opened by the blood of one individual," Wesley nodded.

"Most likely the employee currently assigned to the case." Fred suggested.

"That was my thinkin' too." Gunn shifted the papers and took the one from the bottom. "Arnold Carter is the last name on the list, as far as I can tell it's his blood that will open the vault and hopefully give us what we need to stop the bomb."

"So we get Carter and we open vault," Lorne said, looking hopeful. Then his face fell and he shook his head. "Not that simple is it."

"No, it's not. We have a big problem. Arnold Carter was killed last year when the Beast attacked Wolfram and Hart," Gunn said grimly.

"Ah," Wesley sighed.

After a moment Fred said, "Not necessarily a problem."

xXxXxXx

"Cordelia," he began, looking into her eyes.

"Angel," Her eyes widened. Everything Angel had been about to say was suddenly gone, a panic fluttered through him as her expression suddenly shifted, becoming fearful.

"Cordy, what is it?" He reached out with a comforting hand to her shoulder. Cordelia flinched, the look of horror on her face deepening.

"No, no, not now, it can't." Cordelia gasped, frantically shaking her head and screwing up her eyes. "No…"

Then Angel saw her eyes. They were pure white.

Adrian Wallace opened his eyes and smiled. He leaned forward and gently blew out the candles he had used to cast his little spell.

xXxXxXx

Cordelia couldn't believe it was happening. It couldn't be, not now, not like this, this was supposed to be over.

Cordelia Chase was having a vision. A vision like the ones she used to have. A vision from the Powers That Be that arrived in her skull with a fiery sting. The vision blossomed in her mind, an unfolding flower of pain, bringing a bloom of suffering to her senses.

She had her hands pressed tightly against the sides of her head. From the fog of pain the message from on high began to seep through.

Visions were not just all about seeing. The gift of the sight for Cordelia was more about experiencing. It was an all out assault on all of her senses. She became immersed in it, like jumping into a pool of chilly water. There was nothing else. The vision drowned out all other reality

_Get away from me!_ The scream echoed in her ears, a raw cry of panic and fear, a sound Cordelia was all too familiar with. The image of a teenage girl swam into view, tears streaming down scarlet cheeks. It didn't take a genius to see the girl was extremely upset. The girl had long blond hair, Cordelia thought she would be quite a cutie of she didn't have such a terrified expression on her face. For a whole second that face was all Cordy could see, which in the context of a vision was a very long time indeed. The terror, the fear, the absolute horror on the girl's face was hammered home to Cordelia, striking deep in her soul.

Then the vision finally shifted to reveal more of what was going on. Cordelia saw the girl struggling to get away from a large muscled, snarling demon. Cordelia could feel the vicious intend oozing from him. He had red, scaly reptilian skin and menacing green eyes with light-blue pupils. He was closing in on the girl. She was cornered, trapped. The vision lingered again for a moment, this time on the snarling, growling monster that was about to ripped the girl apart.

Cordelia felt a tightening in her heart as she helplessly watched, the demon closing in, baring it's teeth.

_No, please, no!!_ The girl begged.

With a roar the demon made the final lunge. And then blackness.

"Cordelia, Cordelia, can you hear me? Cordelia?" Her eyes found a new focus; Angel's concerned expression. "What did you see?"

"A young woman getting attacked by a demon," Cordelia took deep breaths, rubbing her temples. The old post-vision pain was back.

"What did this demon look like?" Angel hoped that he would be able to identify it without having to go back to the offices and research it.

"Umm, big. Lots of muscle. Red skin. Lizardy."

Angel nodded, he recognized the description, it sounded just like the demon that had murdered the lead just a short while ago. "Where, when?" Angel asked; he could see she was suffering, but he knew how important this had to be if the Powers had woken her up to receive this vision.

Cordelia took another deep breath and focused, drawing all the knowledge she could from the vision. "There was a clock in the background. The time on it was…hold on a sec…" She visualized the room that the girl and the demon had been in. Yes, the clock was there, the time on it was…it was… "Midnight."

Midnight. A second midnight deadline.

"Where?" He asked. Cordelia took another few seconds and then she told him the address that her mind told her the vision was relaying to her. "That's outside the city forty-five minutes away, at least." Angel checked his watch. "And we've got just over an hour until it's midnight."

"There was something else," Cordelia frowned and closed her eyes. "Something else I saw." In her mind's eyes she pictured the scene again, searching for whatever it was she was supposed have seen, supposed to have noticed.

xXxXxXx

Lucy Patrick was on the verge of sleeping. Her paper was done and she was now lying on her bed, too sleepy to even be bothered changing into her nightclothes. As sleep slowly descended upon her body and mind the area on her arm that had earlier caused her irritation began to tingle again. Just as she became aware of the feeling her eyes opened wide and for a brief moment flashed white.

Lucy suddenly was sitting up right and quickly rolled up the sleeve of her sweater. There, clearly formed was a semi-circle with a little triangle underneath, it looked like a birthmark, as if it had always been there.

In her mind Lucy felt a perfect clarity, an incredible moment when she understood exactly what her life was for. She knew that she now had amazing power within, she knew that she had been chosen so very long ago. Lucy knew that she was the back up, the contingency. The true chosen girl was dead, slaughtered before her time. Now Lucy had been activated. Mystical power coursed though every molecule of her body, it told her exactly what she needed to know in order to fulfill her magnificent destiny.

xXxXxXx

"A birthmark," Cordelia opened her eyes, and looked to Angel. "On her forearm, her right forearm," Cordelia motioned to where she had seen the birthmark.

"Semi-circle with a triangle," Angel nodded, the girl in Cordy's vision was another lead, was another chance at getting information to help figure out the night's events, and hopefully prevent the bomb from detonating. This was a second chance, he was determined not to let this second girl be murdered like the first. He would not let the demon kill her too.

"Okay, I'd better go," Angel said and started to get up.

"We'd better go," Cordelia said, her tone making it clear that an argument was out of the question. Angel tried anyway.

"You need to rest, you…"

"Stop right there, I'm coming, I have to." There was something about the incredibly intense look in her eyes that told Angel there was not a hope of persuading her otherwise. "We shouldn't waste time, let's go." Cordelia threw off the covers and got out of bed. Angel was amazed at how energetic she seemed. Cordy looked down at her hospital garb and then said, "I'd better get dressed first."

xXxXxXx

They descended the small stone stairway, entering the crypt. Being an extraordinarily wealthy individual from a phenomenally wealthy family Arnold Carter, upon his death, had been laid to rest in the family crypt in a fairly small cemetery twenty minutes away from the Wolfram and Hart building. Fred had brought a sample kit with her to collect what they needed.

Wesley, Gunn, Fred and Lorne used the beams of their flashlights to scan for the name: Arnold Carter.

"Over here kids," Lorne called from the back left of the sizable chamber, his flashlight clearly illuminating the little brass plate.

"Right, let's get it open shall we," Wes said, he and Gunn stepped forward, bringing up the crowbars they had brought with them. Fred and Lorne held the flashlights while Wesley and Gunn began to pries open the stone sarcophagus.

"Grave robbing, not exactly how I'd envisioned my night panning out," Lorne sighed. "Plus, this place is giving me a serious case of the heebie-jeebies."

"I know what you mean," Fred looked around nervously, she had a bad feeling about this place, a feeling that sent shivers up her spine. She had the distinct impression that they were being watched by some sinister force. As Gunn and Wes continued to work on getting the sarcophagus' lid off the feeling got stronger and stronger. "Guys do you…"

"Yes," the three of them replied simultaneously. Gunn and Wesley paused for a moment and then continued working. Fred and Lorne nervously looked around the chamber, the musty air, the cold stone, and the deep shadows certainly didn't help their uneasy feelings. The temperature of the chamber suddenly dropped by several degrees. Gunn and Wes doubled their efforts to uncover the body of the former Wolfram and Hart employee.

"Don't mean to rush you but, could you maybe hurry things along," Lorne said awkwardly. A few seconds later the heavy stone lid suddenly shifted an inch, there was a quiet hiss of air as the seal was broken.

"We got it," Gunn said. Lorne and Fred stepped closer to the sarcophagus. Wesley and Gunn pushed their crowbars into the gap and heaved. With the sound of stone grinding on stone the body of Arnold Carter was exposed. The man had been remarkably well preserved.

"The family must have had his flesh restored somehow." Fred lean in. "He doesn't look injured at all."

"Wolfram and Hart did it, his family have a lot of money in the firm, so he got plenty of benefits, including a fully body reconstruction," Gunn nodded. "Pretty standard." Then his eyes widened and he spun round. "Damn, and so is…" His words were cut short as his eyes confirmed his fear.

"A guard," Wesley finished. Lorne and Fred's torch beams settled on the creature now standing at the crypt's entrance, blocking their only route of escape.

"A guard," Gunn nodded, part of the package had been crypt security to make sure the dead rested in peace.

"You have violated this sacred resting place." The guard was six-foot five tall, with a lean body; well-toned muscle rippled under the rubbery looking dark grey skin. The skull appeared skinless; it had narrow, long horizontal black slits for eyes, and no nose. The creature had no lips leaving its jagged teeth fully exposed in a permanent creepy grin. In both long fingered hands the demon held a small double-headed axe, their blades polished to a brilliant shine. "You will die for your lack of respect!" The demon barked.

"How good are we expecting this guy to be?" Wesley quietly asked Gunn.

"No idea, but you can bet he won't be no pushover."

"Fred, we'll take care of this while you get what we need from Mr Carter." Wesley kept his voice quiet and calm, he didn't want to do anything that would provoke the demon into attacking.

Fred slowly moved towards the open sarcophagus. Wesley and Gunn positioned themselves between the demon and the other two Wolfram and Hart department heads.

The demon stood, watching them, poised to strike at any moment.

"What's he waiting for?" Wes wondered aloud.

"Deactivation," Gunn replied, his knowledge download from Wolfram and Hart providing the answer. "Again it's standard in this kind of job. The guard won't act unless we attempt to escape or further violate the crypt."

Fred froze. "You think collecting a few samples will making it grouchy?" She asked, though really she already knew the answer.

"Only way out would be if we had the right password, if we were family paying our respects or something.

"But we don't have the password," Wes said.

"No."

"Then I guess we fight." Wesley reached into his jacket with his right hand and pulled out a Glock 9mm. The demon obviously knew about guns. It came to life and charged at them, raising both axes. Wes squeezed off three shots in rapid succession. Three bullets impacted the demon's chest, but the demon just kept on coming.

Wes dropped the pistol and brought up the crowbar just in time to block the demon's first powerful strike. At the same time Gunn had to use his crowbar to defend himself from the other axe.

Fred quickly opened up her sample kit and got to work.

Wesley attacked low, Gunn attacked high. The demon blocked both. The two humans moved apart, Gunn to the left of the demon, Wesley to the right, so that they would not get in each other's way. Both of them kept attacking, swinging their crowbars at the demon. The guard employed his axes with simple efficiency, making no offensive moves of his own. Wes and Gunn knew that they demon was getting a feel for them, waiting for the perfect moment to make one lethal strike. The demon also used his axes in such a way as to prevent the two men from getting round behind him. Wesley attacked high, and as the demon defended he lashed out with his left foot. The demon shifted to block with his other forearm, providing Gunn with an opening. The lawyer went for it, jabbing the pointed end of the crowbar at the demon's abdomen. The demon spun, dodging the jab and kicking Wesley hard in the chest, sending the former-Watcher flying back.

Gunn swung for the demon's head but the creature blocked with one axe and brought the other arching round at Gunn's knee level. He leapt back, the blade ripping though the fabric of his trousers. Fortunately the tear did not go deep enough to cut into his knee. Gunn hurriedly took a few steps back, holding the crowbar up, ready to defend. The demon looked at him, Gunn could have sworn that it's skeletal grin got just a little bit wider.

Wesley inhaled sharply, the demon's kick had winded him. He glanced at Fred and Lorne; they were busy with Carter's corpse. He looked back to the guard, just as it lunged at Gunn, both axes swishing through the air.

Gunn again managed to block one with the crowbar and twisted to get out to of the path of the other. This time he wasn't quite fast enough, the blade nicked his left shoulder, drawing blood. Gunn had no time to check how bad the injury was, he had to duck and dodge as the demon rapidly attacked.

Wesley grabbed the pistol, he had landed almost on top of it, and after taking aim he pulled the trigger. The bullet hit the demon's head, just above where a human's ear would be. The demon flinched. Gunn stepped forward and swept the crowbar up, whacking the side of the demon's head. Wesley fired again and again, the bullets impacted on, but failed to penetrate, the demon's skull.

The demon snarled again swinging both axes at Gunn. Charles Gunn's eyes went wide. He batted the left axe away with the crowbar. He pulled back and started to turn his face away from the other one, but he knew that it wasn't enough. The axe ripped into the flesh of his right temple and tore across his forehead. Gunn was spun around, his right side now completely exposed to the demon.

A heartbeat.

Red swelled from the deep cut. He started turning back to the demon, bringing up his weapon, but he knew that it was already too late. He saw an axe blade in the corner of his eye, coming straight for his face.

Suddenly the axe changed direction.

Wesley had just thrown himself at the demon, tackling him at the waist. Wesley and the guard tumbled to the crypt floor. There was a sickening crack as the demon's right wrist took the worst of the impact, the bone snapping and bursting through the grey skin. There was little blood, just a small amount of icky grey/green goo. Wesley moved quickly, knowing that he had no time to spare. He pushed the barrel of the gun against one of the demon's eyes and pulled the trigger. He kept firing until the gun clicked empty. He waited a moment and then released the breath he had been holding. He tucked away the pistol. The demon's eye was a gory mess, and it was no longer moving.

Wesley heaved himself up, his right shoulder hurting from the impact with the demon. The rest of his body ached all over. He looked over to Gunn, who was leaning against another one of the Carter sarcophagi.

"Thanks," Gunn said, gritting his teeth against the pain. Blood was flowing freely down the entire right side of his face and some of the left. He had the palm of his left hand pressed against the wound.

"No problem," Wesley nodded.

"Got what we came for," Fred reported, tapping the top of the sample kit case.

"And we'd better get you to the docs," Lorne said as he put a supportive arm around Gunn's shoulder and offered him a bright red handkerchief.

"Might be a good idea," Gunn smiled, taking the handkerchief and holding it against his forehead.

They quickly left the crypt. Time was still ticking away, and this wasn't over by a long way yet.


	5. Act Four

_**ACT FOUR**_

Time trickled away.

Adrian Wallace watched the seconds ticking by on his watch. Not long now. The robed man had just reported that the Wolfram and Hart team had departed the Carter crypt twenty minutes ago. They were cutting it close. Only thirty-two minutes remained until the glorious midnight hour

xXxXxXx

This time Angel was going to save the girl, there was no doubt in his mind. He would get to her place in time and he would save her from death at the hands of the evil demon. This night had been non-stop since the robed man had walked into the Wolfram and Hart building mere hours ago. Angel was still trying to get his head around it all. The bomb, a powerful girl of mystical importance, a demon assassin murdering her, Cordelia waking, a second mystical girl in danger. He hoped that the others were close to solving the bomb crisis; he had to trust that they could handle it while he saved the girl. Even if it turned out that this girl could be of help with the bomb, he doubted that there would be enough time for her to be able to do anything.

As Angel drove Cordelia sat in silence in the passenger seat. The world seemed exactly as it had been pre-coma. Other then Angel's shiny new car things seemed to be going as usual. Angel rushing to save the damsel in distress.

The harrowing image of the girl's terrified face was constant in her mind's eye. The girl was important. Cordelia could feel it. This girl needed to be saved. The PTB wouldn't have interfered and woken her without a very very good reason.

xXxXxXx

Upon the team's return to the Wolfram and Hart building Gunn had been taken straight to the infirmary. Wesley, Fred and Lorne proceeded immediately to the building's basement vaults. The elevator doors opened. "Evening," said the guard at the security desk. He knew exactly who the three of them were and knew that they had full clearance to go wherever they wanted.

"Hi," Fred greeted as they rushed down the corridor to find the vault they were looking for; vault forty-seven.

Lorne hoped that this would be the end of it. If this vault didn't contain exactly what they needed to prevent the mystically supercharged bomb going off then all hope would be lost. There was no time to figure out any other possible leads to follow up on.

"Vault forty-seven. This is it." Wesley came to a stop in front of a wide, formidable looking metal door, it's number marked with gold numerals.

"Let's see if this works then." Fred opened her sample case and took out a vial of blood that she had collected from the dead body of Arnold Carter. A combination of magic and the sealed environment had perfectly preserved the corpse, right down to the blood. "Uh, where should I put it?" She asked. Other then the numbers there were no other markings on the door, nothing to indicate where the blood should go.

"Anywhere on the door should do," Wesley guessed. Fred popped the stopped off the vial and then liberally splattered the middle of the door with blood. After a tense moment the blood was completely absorbed by the door. After another few agonizingly slow moments the vault door shimmered and then faded out of existence.

"Well open sesame kids, it worked," Lorne sighed with relief.

The three stepped into vault forty-seven. The inside was large, about the size of Angel's office upstairs, the walls were made of shiny metal. There were two objects inside the vault. Right in the middle was a table, the first object. On top of the table was the second object, a chest, it looked exactly like a stereotypical pirate's chest. It was about a meter and a half wide. The three of them walked over to it. This treasure chest contained all their hope of stopping the bomb, of saving the building and the surrounding areas of the city. Wesley put his hands on it, Fred was standing on his right, Lorne on his left. "Let's just hope this isn't Pandora's Box," Lorne commented glumly. There was no lock on the chest.

"Here goes," Wesley said, and he opened the hinged lid.

There was silence. Then the three of them gasped at what they saw inside.

xXxXxXx

In the Patrick household Lucy's parents sat in the living room, oblivious to their daughter's change, and to the chaos that was about to descend on their home.

Upstairs Lucy was sitting on her bed. She was waiting for the time to perform the task, the duty she had been chosen for. In a few minutes it would be time to get started.

xXxXxXx

Angel's foot was pressed down firmly on the accelerator. He wasn't going to let this second girl die. This time he would make it. This time he would save her. He had to.

xXxXxXx

Inside vault forty-seven Wesley, Fred and Lorne were speechlessly staring at the contents of the chest.

"It looks identical to me," Fred said. Inside the chest what a box, roughly the size of a soccer ball. It was a perfect cube, made of dark wood with dull metal trimming. It was another device identical to the bomb in the Wolfram and Hart lab.

Suddenly it came to life. The box flashed a blinding red. The three of them covered their eyes. When the red glare had faded they looked and they saw the box was pulsing with red light. "Does this mean…?" Lorne started to ask.

"Yes, it's been activated," Wesley nodded, a grim expression on his face. The three of them were stunned. After such a hectic night they had reached the end of the journey and found that it had all been for nothing. That there was no solution, that the bomb was destined to go off and unleash it's destructive energies. They stared at the rapidly pulsing glow; Wesley suspected that if the two bombs were placed side by side they would be pulsing in synchrony. The tiredness and the pains from the night suddenly hit him. They were beaten, defeated. There was nothing more he could think of to do, there was no avenue of research to explore, especially not in the time that they had remaining. He felt hope draining away, and he felt utterly helpless.

"The lab." Fred broke into his dark and defeated thoughts. "I'll take it to the lab…a-and maybe there's something we can do, m-maybe this one will be different and show us how to shut them both down."

Wes smiled slightly. Trust Fred to provide the tiny glimmer of hope against all the darkness. She didn't give up, no matter how difficult the problem, she always persevered. He admired that about her. "No harm in trying," Wesley said.

Fred grabbed a hold of the box and dashed out of vault forty-seven, Wesley and Lorne following close behind. There was still hope, not much, but even the smallest amount could be enough in such a dark situation.

xXxXxXx

A mere seventeen minutes remained.

Cordelia and Angel arrived outside the house from her vision. This was it, she was certain of it. Angel slammed on the brakes and pulled hard on the handbrake, bringing the car to a forceful stop. For a brief moment concern about the other midnight deadline surfaced in his mind. But he trusted that the others could take care of it, they had resources and they had the smarts to figure it out. He couldn't worry about that problem, because right now he had to focus on this one. He had to focus on stopping the demon from killing the girl. The houses in the street were large and well spaced from each other, this was obviously a fairly well-off area, quiet a contrast from where the first girl had been living.

Angel and Cordy quickly got out of the car, snatching up their weapons. They dashed up the drive, a familiar musky scent caught in Angel's nostrils. The demon. It was already here. Angel paused at the door and knocked loudly. There was no reply. He kicked it open.

"Hello! Is anyone there, I need you to invite me in!" he yelled. Cordelia started to push by him, but he grabbed her arm. "No, it's too dangerous."

"I have to," she said and stepped into the house. Angel watched as she went down the hall and stopped at the open doorway on her left. The look on her face said it all. Angel could smell the blood from outside. Angel stepped forward, hoping with all his heart that he wouldn't be able to enter.

The threshold presented no barrier to him. "Damn," he hissed and quickly joined Cordelia. It was the living room. There were two adults, presumably the girl's parents. Both had suffered multiple stab wounds, there was a lot of blood on the floor and furniture. The murder weapon, a black handled kitchen knife was embedded in the chest of the woman.

There was the sound of movement upstairs, from the back-left of the house. Angel looked up. Perhaps her mystical nature had somehow negated the threshold obstacle, she might still be alive. He dashed out of the living room. "Wait here," he told Cordelia as he headed for the stairs.

"No way," she replied and followed him. She hadn't come all this way just to wait and miss out on everything. She felt a powerful need to be actively involved in saving this girl.

Angel leapt up the last three steps and went left along the hall, there was a bedroom door with a little wooden plaque with Lucy Patrick written in flowery lettering. The sound of a crash, followed by a distinctly young and female scream came from inside the bedroom.

Angel kicked the door open. Inside the large bedroom the girl was backed up against the window, the demon closing on her, a smashed lamp on the floor had been the source of the crash.

"Get away from me! No!" Lucy yelled at the demon. As Angel stepped into the room the demon whirled round.

"You again," he growled. It was the same demon that Angel had fought earlier.

"Me again," Angel raised his sword.

"One chance to walk away, filth," the red skinned demon spat.

"Don't think so." Angel took a threatening step forward. The girl was going to live; the demon was going to die. Angel wasn't going to let this play out any other way.

"Good, I've been hoping for a chance to put you out of your misery." A grin spread across the demon's features.

"You're out of luck then." Angel returned the grin and moved in to attack, swinging his sword in an upward arc. The demon remained absolutely still. Just before the sword sliced into him he sidestepped and moved forward at the same time, evading the blade. The demon grabbed Angel, one hand gripping the back of the vampire's shirt, the other seizing his neck. Angel had no time to react. The demon used Angel's momentum against him, hurling him at the bedroom window. There was nothing Angel could do; he crashed face first through the window.

xXxXxXx

Wesley and Lorne looked on anxiously as Fred ran through her tests of the second device.

"It's like the other one," she said as she walked across the lab and started pressing buttons and flicking switches on a complicated looking piece of equipment. "A huge amount of mystical energy."

The hope faded to the tiniest of specks. Now Wesley saw nothing that they could do to stop the bombs from going off. They had failed. He wondered if perhaps there was more that he could have done, some avenue of research that would have provided a solution. He started at the pulsing second bomb. He saw that the markings on it was the same as those on the first one. The only difference was the color that the device was glowing with. As he watched Fred frantically working to try and find some shred of possibility that would save the day he felt utterly helpless. Surely there was something, some stone left unturned. His research had been through, he knew that, but it still didn't stop him from thinking he should have done more. Maybe with more time more information would have turned up.

"So kids, shall we skedaddle?" Lorne clapped his hands together.

Wesley glanced at him, they shared a look. Both knew that the day was lost, that they had failed. After such a short time in charge of the Los Angeles branch of Wolfram and Hart they had failed to save it from destruction. "I'll give the evacuation order, and call the authorities, tell them to clear the area as best they can and prepare for the rescue effort."

Fred continued to work, she hadn't survived Pylea by giving up when things looked grim, she was determined to find a way, to solve the problem. Everything she was doing however was telling her that this second bomb was the same as the first, that there was no way of stopping their detonation.

xXxXxXx

Adrian Wallace was gently tapping the arm of his chair, the night's tension was finally starting to get to him. Everything had been meticulously planned and arranged, every possible factor had been considered. No matter what happened tonight would be a win, no matter how things turned out it would be beneficial to the greater scheme. He smiled, filled with confidence. Victory was assured, but the best possible outcome depended on the vampire and the others at Wolfram and Hart being as good as he believed them to be.

xXxXxXx

The glass and wooden frame of the window shattered, tearing tiny cuts into Angel's face and hands. He sailed through the storm of flying debris. Angel had been caught off-guard by the demon's maneuver.

Cordelia's jaw dropped in horror as the demon hurled Angel out of the window, leaving her and the girl at the mercy of the demon.

The girl moved. Cordelia was amazed by her courage as she dashed round the fearsome demon, coming towards her.

Grinning at his easy victory over the vampire the demon's eyes followed the girl's move. His blue-pupiled eyes then met Cordelia's and she saw his satisfaction.

"Hurry!" Cordelia tore her gaze away from the demon and reached for the girl. The terrified looking teen grabbed Cordy's hand. She turned and ran, holding on tight to the girl's hand.

The demon knew there was now no chance of his mission failing. He started, in no particular hurry, after his target.

Cordelia raced down the hall, still gripping the girl's hand As they reached the top pf the stairs the demon emerged from the bedroom. "There is no escape!" He roared. The girl froze, Cordelia could only imagine that the fear she must be feeling had sent her into some kind of shock.

"Come on!" Cordy urged, squeezing the girl's hand. To her horror the girl turned back to face the demon. The demon gave the girl a look of hatred that sent an icy chill down Cordelia's spine.

"Decided to face your fate have you?" The demon grinned and flexed his claws. "At least you have the honor to die facing me."

Cordelia squeezed the girl's hand again. Fresh from her coma Cordelia felt the old feelings coming back, the feeling of danger, the terrible possibility that she could die in the next moments at the hands of a horrible monster. The girl was still rooted to the spot. Cordelia took another glance at the viciously grinning demon, she knew that was only one thing that she could do. The demon took a single step forward, at the same time Cordelia released the girl's hand and positioned herself between the girl and the demon. "You'll have to get through me first," Cordelia said, without a trace of fear in her voice, despite the terror she felt inside. The demon seemed surprised by her move and considered her words for a moment. Then he nodded, baring his teeth.

"If you wish." The demon had no problem killing anyone who dared get in the way of his task. "I'll make it quick for you," the demon said to Cordy. "She however," he motioned to the girl, "must suffer to her last." Cordelia stood tall, breathing deep to control her nerves. She knew she could hold her own in a fight, though it had been a very long time since she had last taken on a demon, and even longer since facing one as big and strong as this one.

It was time to bring this to an end. The demon snarled and lunged into a run.

As he did he suddenly felt a jolting impact that send him smashing into the wall opposite the bedroom. Before he could regain his bearings he felt three further impacts pound his face, sending him staggering back and onto his butt. The demon shook off his daze and looked up at his attacker.

"Surprise," Angel smiled.

Angel had managed to avoid falling to the ground by grabbing a hold of the window sill. He had stealthily climbed back into the room and had waited for the right moment to strike with maximum effect, when the demon least expected it. He stood above the demon, ready to fighter, ready to protect the girl and Cordy, and to make the demon pay for the murder he had already committed. It was time for the real fight to begin.

xXxXxXx

Six minutes to go.

Wesley looked away from the clock. Any faint feeling of hope had now completely faded away. Defeat and despair was all that remained.

Lorne was near the lab door, itching to get far, far away from the impending big ba-da-bang.

Fred was still frantically trying to solve the problem, refusing to give in to the continued lack of any kind of indication that the bombs could be stopped.

Gunn burst into the lab, a bandage wrapped tightly around his head, covering the wound. "How we doin'?" He asked, everyone's dire expression was answer enough. Even with the sounds of Fred keeping busy the hopeless silence in the room was heavy. "We do have a plan B, some last crazy plan, some dangerous mojo, don't we?" Gunn again was met only with silence.

"We have to leave," Wesley finally said, speaking softly, emotionlessly. It was a cold truth: Leave in defeat or die with those that their failure had condemned. "The helicopter's waiting for us on the roof."

"There's really nothing we can do," Gunn realized aloud.

"Nothing," Wesley echoed.

"Let's hit the road folks, this show's over," Lorne opened the lab door.

"Fred," Wesley said. She didn't hear him, she was totally immersed in her work. "Fred," he called a little louder and she looked at him.

"Not yet. I can do this. I know I can." Fred glanced back down at the computer screen

"We're out of time." Wesley hated that moment, the moment when the fire in Fred's eyes suddenly died.

"There are a couple of things I haven't…" she stopped. Fred ran her eyes over the printed test results scattered around the workspace and then at the computer screen where her analysis of the second bomb's energy had just finished. Then she nodded, "Let's go."

xXxXxXx

Six minutes to go.

Adrian Wallace poured his victory glass of champagne. He had such a good feeling, he knew that the night had unfolded to perfection. In just a few minutes he would be toasting his success.

xXxXxXx

Six minutes to go.

The demon was on his feet and engaged in a rapid exchange of punches with the interfering vampire.

Angel drove his fist hard into the demon's face, hitting him square on the nose. He followed up as the demon staggered back, pummeling his chest with a quick one-two. The demon lashed out with a wild left, which Angel dodged, and a better coordinated right hook, which caught Angel's cheek. Angel's head snapped right, his cheek stinging. He pulled back and managed to avoid a second punch to the face.

Lucy Patrick watched the intense battle, knowing that the dark haired man was her only hope of surviving the night. The magic within her was rising, almost ready to be unleashed. She knew that her fate, and the fates of many many people were dependant on the battle between the man and the red-skinned demon.

Cordelia too watched, it felt right. This was it. This was how is was meant to play out. Angel was going to save the day, saving the damsel in distress from the big scary monster.

The demon exploded into a powerful, very fast series of attacks. Angel blocked and dodged, his face wrinkling with vampire features in the middle of ducking under a pair of punches. With the extra surge of strength and speed he was better able to hold his own. The demon and the vampire rapidly switched between offense and defense so quick it became impossible to tell who was attacking and who was defending at any given moment. The insanely intense barrage lasted twelve seconds.

Then the decisive blow was landed.

Angel was not the one who landed it. He took a phenomenally strong kick in the stomach. He doubled over, a squirt of blood left his mouth and fell to the floor. The demon brought his tightly curled fist smashing down on the back of Angel's head. There was a double crack, the first from the fist connecting with head, the second as Angel's nose broke upon slamming into the floor.

Cordelia watched, knowing it had been a severe strike. However when Angel didn't get up she knew things had taken a seriously bad turn.

Angel was stunned, his mind a mooshed blur. He knew only agony, he could barely form even the simplest of thoughts through the haze. Slowly he pushed himself up with his hands. The demon grabbed him again by the neck and back of his shirt. With one almighty movement he hurled Angel straight up. Angel managed to bring his arms up across his chest, his hands protecting his face, moments before he mashed into the ceiling. The whole front of his body took the crash. The ceiling plaster cracked, chucks of it falling with Angel as gravity reclaimed him.

Angel landed on his back.

Consciousness slipped away into the dark

xXxXxXx

Quickly they dashed across the roof heading right for the waiting helicopter, it's rotors spinning, ready to take-off the moment they were aboard.

Fred's mind was working. In her mind all of the images, all the test results, everything about the two bombs was flying through her brain. To the others she appeared to be in a daze, which wasn't all that far from the truth. She was in a kind of daze, her body on autopilot following the others, her brain processing intensely.

The solution was there just waiting to be realized.

Lorne reached the helicopter first, pulling open the door and quickly clambering inside. Wesley helped Gunn, who was still a bit woozy, aboard next. Wesley turned to Fred to help her into the helicopter. The wind was sending her hair floating behind her in wavy tangles. Wesley stared at her. Her big brown eyes were bright and shining. She was smiling spectacularly, her expression one of sudden joy.

She looked beautiful.

And Wesley knew such an expression could mean only one thing.

But surely it was too late. There was no time.

Fred turned and ran for the door back into the building. "Hey!" Lorne yelled.

"She's figured it out," Wesley said and ran after her. He hoped that Fred was right, that she had found the desperately evasive solution. Time. There couldn't be enough time. But now that there was hope again it had to be reached for. If there was real hope then that hope had to be grabbed with both hands.

xXxXxXx

_Angel looked down at the dead woman. Marie Elliot. The one he had been too late to save. Her eyes starred up at him, cold and empty. Her bloody body, ruined by stab wounds continued to bleed. She looked lonely and helpless. Angel still had no idea what she had died for, what mystical power she had been murdered for._

"_Save her," the corpse whispered. "You can still save her. You couldn't do anything to help me, it wasn't within your power. Help her. You still can._"

Angel's eyes snapped open.

Cordelia stood firm in front of the teenage girl as the demon approached, Angel lying motionless on the floor behind him, defeated. Cordelia knew she wouldn't last ten seconds against the demon, but she had to try. She had to do everything she could, she had to give everything she could.

"Go, please," Cordelia pleaded to the girl one last time. She remained still, eyes fixed on the demon.

Lucy Patrick, who was now so much more than she once was, felt her power surge. Now she was complete, all the power within was ready for it's time. In just two minutes her purpose would be fulfilled, as long as the demon didn't manage to kill her before that time.

"Out of my way," the demon said to Cordelia. "This is not your concern."

"I can't let you kill her," Cordelia said defiantly. The demon pulled back his fist.

Angel was running straight at the demon's back. As the demon's arm muscles fired to send his fist pounding into Cordelia's face, Angel unleashed all the strength he could muster. He put everything he had into one devastating punch. His right fist crunched the demon's lower spine. To Angel's relief there was a very audible crack. The demon fell backwards, arms and legs flopped uselessly. The demon looked up at Angel in shock and hatred. "No!" The demon hissed. "She must not live."

"It's okay now, he can't hurt you anymore." Cordelia turned to the girl, who had an oddly please expression.

"I know," Lucy Patrick said.

Cordelia felt overwhelming relief, the demon was defeated and the girl was safe

"She must not succeed," the demon growled though his agony.

Angel leaned against the wall of the hall for support, his face smoothed out, the blood remained. He was in terrible pain across his whole body. That final punch had taken the last of his energy,

"You failed champion," Lucy spat at the demon, Cordelia saw in her young eyes something that she hadn't expected: Malice.

Something was very wrong.

xXxXxXx

One minute to midnight,

Fred sprinted across the lab and grabbed the second device, the red pulses almost painfully rapid. She turned it over in her hands and nodded.

Wesley arrived beside her. "What's your idea?" He asked breathlessly. Fred told him as she ran over to the first bomb, still carrying the second.

"The two devices have opposite energies. I just realized. I could see the two waves in my head and it just clicked." Wesley saw the circles on top of both devices. It was suddenly clear that they would fit together, would join.

"The circles are the joining point!" He exclaimed. Fred reached the glowing green bomb and turned the red one over so that the circle was on the bottom face. Hoping with every molecule of her being Fred placed the red bomb on top of the green one.

Nothing happened.

"Turn it," Wesley frantically motioned. He knew that there could only be thirty seconds left at most.

Fred turned the device ninety degrees.

Still nothing.

Panic.

_What if I'm wrong?_

She turned it again. Pause.

Nothing happened.

Wesley was shaking, he could feel the time flying by.

Fred turned it one final time. One last all or nothing move.

There was a click.

White light flashed and a beam of white shimmered across the room. Wes and Fred's eyes followed it. The now joined bombs were projecting a symbol onto the far wall of the lab; a semi-circle with a little triangle underneath it, a triangle above it and a shaded circle within it. Both of them stared at it. After a couple of seconds it vanished. The devices continued to pulse green and red.

"We'd better get away from this thing." Fred grabbed Wesley's hand and they dashed out of the lab.

Midnight.

The bombs exploded, their energies erupting from the circles where they were joined. The green and the red energy collided and changed. The two boxes burst apart in a flash of white. The force of the blast ripped through the lab, shattering millions of dollars worth of equipment.

Wesley and Fred were thrown to the floor as the building shuddered. Both dreaded that still Fred might had been wrong, that what they were feeling was the building being blown apart.

Then the shuddering stopped.

Debris bounced around the utterly wrecked laboratory. The counter upon which the bomb had been resting had been completely destroyed. Other then that however the bombs did no other physical damage.

"We did it," Fred sighed and rolled onto her back, amazed to be alive.

"You did it." Wesley smiled at her, relief surging through him.

Not one person was harmed by the detonation. The two bombs had changed each other. However the explosion did produce a shockwave. A shockwave that had no physical effects, but allowed for an event that would have far reaching consequences. The mystical explosion had served a very definite purpose.

For one moment, midnight, the whole world was mystically altered.

As it turned one minute past midnight Wesley, Fred, Gunn and Lorne felt relief and that wonderful sense that always came when innocent lives had been saved.

The Wolfram and Hart building remained standing.

xXxXxXx

One minute to midnight, Lucy Patrick let a grin spread across her features. "Almost time," she said with glee.

"You're…" Cordelia didn't understand, this girl was…

"Evil." Lucy's grin widened. She looked down at the demon. "A warrior sent by the Powers to stop me. But you took care of him for me." She flashed a grin at Angel.

Angel couldn't believe it. He had made a terrible, terrible mistake. Jagged pain spiked through his body. He stared at the girl, the evil he had protected.

Lucy moved towards the demon, her murderous intent obvious.

"No!" Cordelia grabbed the girl's shoulder. The girl spun, back handing Cordy hard across the face.

Cordelia stumbled backwards and suddenly her foot faltered. She pitched right. Eyes widened in horror as she saw the stairs rushing towards her

Angel could only watch. Fir a moment it appeared hat Cordelia might regain her balance. Then suddenly she was gone. Angel lurched forward, but his strength failed; instead he slumped against the wall.

Cordelia's world tumbled and tumbled. She felt jarring impacts as she bounced down. Around halfway she heard a sickly crack, pain shooting up her right arm, followed by a scream. Her scream. A second later her world went dark. Her scream cut off.

Angel heard every agonizing sound of the horrific fall.

Lucy paid no attention. She stopped, placing her hands on either side of the demon's head. In a merciless jerk she ripped the head off the Powers' warrior demon. She dropped the lifeless head and grinned at Angel. "And now comes the fun part," she said, her tone like that of an excited child.

She waved her arm and a shimmering bubble formed around them.

Cordelia. Angel's only thought was for her. How badly was she hurt?

Midnight.

The bubble flared blue. And time stopped.

"There. It is midnight," Lucy smiled. "Outside of this bubble time is frozen at exactly midnight." This fact seemed to her to have phenomenal importance.

Angel was still focused on Cordelia's fate.

"I know how you came to save me," she smiled knowingly. "My master manipulated you all so wonderfully. If you hadn't intervened the Powers' little pet would have prevented this glorious occasion."

Angel tried to speak, but pain flared across his chest, he could feel he had broken at least three ribs, probably more.

"At this exact moment in time a mystical energy is surrounding this world." Lucy knew that this field had been arranged for her by her master as part of the greater manipulation. "At this moment, this moment only, I can do what I've been waiting to do for more years than you can imagine. I am a being of energy that lives in humans, a girl for all her life and then I move on to the next host. I was dormant until now."

Angel realized that what this evil being was saying was most likely going to be very important. He did his best to push away the pain and focus his thoughts.

"I am the first step. All I am here to do is open the door, open the door for everything my master plans." She began making complex gestures in the air, beginning her ritual, her purpose. "You have no idea what's coming," she said darkly. "But you'll see soon enough." Lucy's hands glowed as if on fire, the symbols she was drawing in the air lingered, fading after around a second. "My master will see this world as it should be, will see it ruled by those who deserve to rule it." Her gestures became increasingly complex, weaving her intricate patterns faster and faster.

Angel watched, and took in everything that was being said.

"It's almost done now. The door is almost open." The girl's expression was one of ecstatic victory.

Angel didn't like the sound of this opening door, he wondered if she was conjuring a portal of some kind, a portal to bring this master she had referred to.

The being that Lucy Patrick had become was nearing the end of her purpose.

Angel watched as she continued her ritual. She began speaking again, this time a bizarre combination of shrieks and clicks that Angel couldn't even begin to comprehend. Her eyes flared violet and the fiery glow spread across her body. The sounds the girl was producing became increasingly loud and increasingly unsettling. The noise became painful. The air around Lucy Patrick crackled and hissed with random green sparks, her hair was standing on end. Angel could feel a tingle like static electricity. Whatever spell she was doing, it was working.

The noise burned Angel's ears, the tingle in the air stung his skin, the brightness of the girl's fiery light jagged into his tightly closed eyes. There was the smell of burning, Angel recognized it as the foul odor of burning flesh. He could taste metal in his mouth. It got worse and worse and worse. He felt only pain. Agony.

Suddenly there was absolute silence.

The light, the noise, all of it, vanished. Angel opened his eyes. She was standing there, her skin marred by thin cracks, blood slowly seeping from them. Her eyes and hair were jet black, the mark on her forearm was bright red. Her hands were spread wide, stretched out as far as she could reach on both sides, her hands glowing white. She looked into Angel's eyes, he felt her looking into his eyes.

"My work is done," her voice was hoarse, raw. "And now the door shall open!"

Angel helplessly incapacitated watched as she brought her hands together in a simple clap.

There were no fireworks, no spectacular finale. There was only a simple clap, and the white glow vanished.

Midnight.

The blue haze dissipated and Lucy Patrick collapsed, blood trickling from her mouth, nose, and cracked skin. Her eyes returned to normal wide and lifeless.

Angel tried again to move but the dark he had been struggling against finally reclaimed him.

Time resumed it's steady march.

xXxXxXx

Midnight.

Adrian Wallace felt it. The moment he had been waiting for, the moment his family stretching back through the ages had been waiting for, was here.

He took a sip of champagne; smiling to himself. The elaborate plan, conceived so long ago, finely tuned by Adrian, had succeeded. The first step on the long road was completed. One loose end remained, he would tidy that up before the hour was through.

xXxXxXx

The robed man entered the house. He went up the stairs, stepping over the young woman lying at the bottom. He reached the top and found everything as expected.

The robed man pulled out a small paintbrush from a pocket. He crouched and dipped the brush in the pool of blood that had formed from Lucy's mouth and nose. He then quickly painted a symbol on the wall, a symbol Wesley and Fred would have recognized as the same one the bombs had projected on the lab wall; a semi-circle with a little triangle above and below it and a shaded circle within it.

The robed man left the house, his final task of the night complete. He paused outside and inhaled deeply. He felt proud of his achievements, and he knew that MalKlan would be pleased with his performance. Now he set off for his meeting with Wallace, the meeting where he would finally meet the great God MalKlan face to face.

xXxXxXx

Midnight had come and gone.

Wolfram and Hart's Los Angeles branch was saved. Midnight had been the end of the threat, the end of the night's action.

The world was changed.

In the greater scheme of things midnight had been the beginning.


	6. Envoi

_**ENVOI**_

There was a knock at the door. Exactly on time.

Adrian Wallace stood. "Enter," he commanded. The robed man, loyal follower of MalKlan, came into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Take a seat." Wallace motioned to the leather armchair across from the sofa. The robed man sat, sitting up straight, disciplined. He was ready for his reward, ready to at last meet his god. "You have performed your duties perfectly tonight."

"In the service of MalKlan anything less would be unacceptable," The robed man replied.

"Indeed it would," Wallace nodded. "You have proven yourself to be a man worthy of our god, worthy to gaze upon his magnificence." Wallace praised the fanatical follower, the words bringing further pride to the robed man's heart. His life before MalKlan before Wallace had shown him the way of greatness now seemed empty and worthless in comparison to his life now. MalKlan had given him meaning and in return the robed man had given him service and absolute loyalty.

Adrian Wallace stood and poured two glasses of the champagne. He handed one to the robed man and sat back down. "A toast!" He raised his glass. The robed man, a little unsure of the delay, followed suit. "To success, to victory, to the beginning!" Wallace drank. The robed man also took a sizable sip "And now to business," Wallace smiled. "For two years now you have served MalKlan, you have followed the ideal of making this world as it should be, free of chaos. Tonight everything you have worked for, lived for, has finally begun."

The robed man felt a growing excitement. This was it. Time to meet his master, the one who would change the world, the one who would make the world burn and cleanse it of its weakness.

"Without your loyal efforts this night would not have been possible, this night would not have been a success."

The robed man truly had played a huge role in the execution of Wallace's scheme. Firstly he had paid a visit to the hospital, he had visited a patient; Cordelia Chase. He had cast the spell that had awakened her and made her susceptible to the vision Wallace had sent her. After that he had delivered the bomb, which caused upon detonation a momentary mystical field. Then he had sent Angel, Wolfram and Hart's CEO off to save the girl who had carried out the objective of the night's mission.

Wallace was extremely pleased with his handiwork the plan had been perfectly researched and adapted to fit with Wolfram and Hart's new management.

"And so now we come to this." Wallace finished his champagne, the robed man quickly gulped his down too. "Tell me of MalKlan."

"The great and powerful MalKlan is an old one, a demon god who once held dominion over many worlds. Earth at that time was a haven, a paradise for the old ones." The robed man was reciting part Wallace's teachings. "Then came the chaos. Alliances shattered. Humanity rebelled. Centuries of war broke out, the demon wars. When it ended MalKlan like so many others was exiled from the Earth, many believed him destroyed. Yet he had human followers, and they managed to contact him. From the dawn of humanity the followers of the great one have worked to return him to his rightful place, here. And now the time has come. This very night MalKlan's return has been arranged. The door is open, ready for his arrival." The robed man took a deep breath. This was it, he could feel a warmth rising within.

"It is time for you to meet your master," Wallace nodded, eyes shining in prospect of what was about to happen. "Shouldn't be long now."

There was something in the way that Wallace was smiling at him that made the robed man feel deeply uncomfortable. The warm feeling continued to rise within, along with a dread that something wasn't quite right.

And then he felt suddenly very tired. His eyes slowly closed. Moments later, he stopped breathing.

xXxXxXx

It was approaching three in the morning.

"How is she?" Wesley asked as he entered the room. Angel looked up at him from his chair at Cordelia's bedside.

"Broke her arm." Angel heard the horrible crunch again in his mind. "Cracked a rib. The doc reckons she'll be okay, the head injury will probably be mild concussion."

Wesley nodded. Angel had not yet gone into detail about what had happened at the Patrick house. All he knew was the whole family and a demon were dead, and that Angel and Cordy had been seriously injured. He also knew about the symbol that had been pained on the wall and had indeed recognized it as being the same as the one the bomb had projected. He would get his department started on figuring out what it was before he left to finally get some sleep.

"You guys did good tonight," Angel said.

"It was…close." Angel hadn't yet been told the full details regarding the bomb situation yet. "I'm heading home. Tonight had been exhausting."

That was one word for it Angel thought. "See you tomorrow," he nodded.

Wesley left the room leaving Angel alone with Cordy. Tonight he had failed on so many levels. He had failed to save the young woman, he had killed a champion, he had let Cordy get hurt, he had allowed evil to win. He could feel that something big was coming, was already here, and he had the feeling that it could be bigger than anything he had faced before. Coming to Wolfram and Hart had been about raising the game, their fight against evil, to a new level. Now Angel realized that this level was a whole lot tougher than he had expected. But he was determined that there would be no more failure. He would raise his game and he would fight the new evil and the evil that came after it.

"Angel," Cordelia moaned.

"Cordy." Angel leaned in close to her, gently squeezing the hand of her unbroken arm. "I'm sorry."

"It was my own fault. I should have known that the girl was…"

"You couldn't have known," Angel said.

"The vision. It showed her, she was screaming she was in danger. Why did the Powers show me that?"

Angel had a likely answer; the vision hadn't been form the Powers but from whatever evil force was behind all this. Possibly this master that the girl had referred to.

They sat, both reflecting on the awful way that the night had unfolded.

"Where is this? A hospital?" Cordelia asked, looking around the room.

"Sort of," Angel nodded. Cordy looked at him, her expression questioning. "A lot has happened in the time you've been…away. There have been changes."

"Changes." Cordelia echoed.

"Changes." He nodded. And then, starting from the moment Jasmine had been born, he told her everything.

Note:

A huge thank you to those of you that have reviewed. In answer of some of the questions, at least one of the characters mentioned will be making an appearence in this series.

Reviews are very much appreciated.

Episode two will start appearing in the next few days :)

5x02: "Rage":

As Cordelia comes to terms with the changes that have happened in her absence Team Angel investigate the mystical cause of a spree of seemingly random acts of violence.


End file.
